


dive into you

by getcool (avatarstates)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Shadow World Setting (Shadowhunter Chronicles), Denial of Feelings, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Secret Crush, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2019-10-10 02:45:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17417549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avatarstates/pseuds/getcool
Summary: Asahi's voice is husky but gentle. It's deep enough to cause shivers to run down Nishinoya's spine but pleasant enough to make him want to listen more of it. With a voice like that, why is he so afraid to speak? Asahi can't possibly be self-conscious of how he sounds, can he?***When the Sendai Institute receives newcomers, Nishinoya isn't sure how to feel about the one named Asahi. Drawn into the walking conundrum Asahi presents himself as, Nishinoya soon finds himself neck-deep in emotions he has never experienced. This leaves him with two choices: to stay afloat or to dive in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! before you read this fic, there's a few things i'd like to clarify before you proceed.
> 
> 1\. since the story is set in japan, the characters will essentially be speaking in japanese. any dialogue spoken in foreign languages (i.e english) will be completely bolded.
> 
> 2\. there will be use of japanese honorifics (i.e -san, -senpai, etc)
> 
> 3\. some romanized japanese words may be used. their meanings will be added at the end of chapter in the notes section.
> 
> 4\. this fic is inspired by [this post by boniebelle](https://boniebelle.tumblr.com/post/162403288462/i-was-rereading-the-infernal-devices-and-then-i), one of my favorite asanoya artists.
> 
> that's all! i hope you'll enjoy the story!

Nishinoya Yuu is too slow to react when the Oni demon swings its club.

The flat blow on his back sends him flying ten feet forward. He throws his hands out instinctively. I’s a miracle he doesn’t break his wrists when he lands but the rough surface of the ground takes off a layer of his skin. The rune on his right shoulder burns immediately, preventing him from going into a daze. Quickly, he rolls to his side in time to see the Oni’s club smash into the concrete beside him. He scrambles to his feet, narrowly missing the demon’s clawed grip, and makes a mad lunge for his daggers nearby. 

As soon his hands close around their hilts, Nishinoya throws one of his daggers. His aim is off but it hits the Oni squarely in the shoulder, causing it to roar in pain. He grins, almost savagely. His right arm is poised to throw his last weapon when something whistles past his ear. Before he has a chance to register what it is, the Oni drops dead with an object protruding from its forehead.

“Ryu,” he groans once he notices he recognizes the arrow. “I had it under control.” He turns to see a person landing in front of him with the grace of a cat. 

Tanaka Ryuunosuke snorts, slinging his bow over his shoulders. “Under control my foot,” he retorts. The demon’s body has disappeared to whatever realm it was from, leaving behind the trace of its presence in the form of ichor dripping off Ryu’s arrow and Nishinoya’s dagger. With a wrinkle of his nose, he shakes them dry. “It hit you with its club!” 

At that, the adrenaline seems to fade from Nishinoya’s system; suddenly, he’s aware of the white-hot pain crushing up his chest when he breathes. Fighting back the urge to cough, he reaches for his stele. “Yeah, but I’m still in one piece,” he manages. 

Ryu sighs as he takes the stele. The usual sharp look in his eyes has softened. "Alright," he says, "take it off." 

Nishinoya unbuckles the straps of his patrol gear, letting it drop to the ground. As he removes his shirt he turns so that his back is facing Ryu. "How bad is it?" he asks. 

"Eh," says Ryu but the faint tremble of concern underneath the nonchalance is detectable. "You've been banged up worse." 

“I suppose.” Nishinoya braces himself against the graffiti-covered wall of the alleyway. The cool tip of the stele touches his shoulder blade. It heats up as Ryu draws an iratze across his skin. It doesn't sting slightly as it would if anyone drew it for him instead, it feels pleasant like the warmth of the morning sun. That’s because Ryu is his parabatai and one of the benefits is that runes they draw on each other are more effective than runes drawn by anyone else. 

A satisfied noise drags itself past Nishinoya's lips. "That's better," he sighs as the pain fades. Whatever injuries he got will heal, although he makes a mental note to ask Kiyoko to have a look at him later. She's better at these medical and first-aid stuff than Ryu is anyway. As for the scrapes on his palms, the open wounds on his skin are in the process of knitting back. 

"If you're going to chase any demons alone again, please, let me know." Ryu hands him back the stele.

"Will do, chief." 

They leave the alley where the demon was found. So far, that was the most excitement they've had in a month. Prior to today, patrols in the city have been boring as the area has been relatively demon-free for the past month. The only problems he and Ryu encountered here are minor Downworlder scuffles and an odd case of a mundane unknowingly trafficking demon drugs. 

However, Nishinoya is grateful for today. It's a welcome distraction from the hectic week. Apparently the Sendai Institute will be receiving two new Shadowhunters from the Melbourne Institute today. Ryu's mother, Mrs Tanaka, has been working everyone to the bone to get the whole place cleaned up for the newcomers' arrival.

"What time will they be coming?" asks Nishinoya as he taps his subway card on the turnstile. 

"Probably now?" Ryu frowns. "Suga and Kiyoko's picking them up from the airport." They descend the stairs to the platform. The mundanes don't give them so much as a glance because of the glamor runes they applied earlier. Sometimes, Nishinoya is tempted to give them a playful shove to see how they’d react but he’s certain he’d probably get in trouble for that.

The sound of the train approaching echoes from the tunnel as a female voice from the P.A system announces its arrival. The train rattles to a stop at the platform when the doors open, allowing people to disembark it. Nishinoya and Ryu join the boarding passengers, slipping amongst them easily. The car they got on is kind of full now so they find themselves standing near the doors. 

“D’you think I should make an appointment with Oikawa?” Nishinoya asks, curling his finger in his fringe. “For the usual thing.” To others, it may sound like he’s looking for a haircut. Well, he kind of is but that’s not the main reason he’s thinking of calling up his vampire hairdresser. 

Nishinoya’s hair is dark except for a tuft that falls on his forehead, which is blond in color. It looks as if it’s been dyed but in reality his hair has always been like that for as long as he can remember. He usually dyes the tuft so that it's the same color as his hair, but for whatever reason its original color always reappears after a month or so. It's a pain to have it dyed regularly but he doesn't mind visiting Oikawa's.

Ryu arches his eyebrows. He’s fully aware of how conscious Nishinoya can get about his hair, which has been the subject of stares from other Shadowhunters, ranging from curiosity to thinly veiled disgust. “Your hair is fine,” Ryu reassures. “Keep the tuft. It makes you look badass.” 

A snort comes out of Nishinoya. “I’ll just wait until your undercut grows out then I’ll make an appointment for both of us,” he suggests. 

Ryu shoots him a look of mock horror, placing his hands on his head. “If you’re gonna make me shave my hair off, no,” he says flatly and Nishinoya laughs. “I didn’t look cool with a bald head, okay?” 

“It did make you look like a sort of … —“ Nishinoya pauses to find the right way to describe it. “Like an intimidating monk.” Ryu pokes his tongue out at him and he does the same. 

* * *

The walk to the Institute from the station takes about ten minutes but they take a detour to visit the convenience store to buy GariGariKun popsicles. Nishinoya scarfs down the soda-flavored one, relishing in the way the cold numbs the insides of his mouth. 

"I hope Mom won't be mad about us eating these," mumbles Ryu in between bites of his popsicle. "She's making dinner tonight." 

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"I like the way you think." 

They make their way down the street that takes them to the road leading to the Institute. There's a sign propped up that says 'Private Property. No Trespassing', which is supposed to keep mundanes out. Nishinoya has always wondered what the Institute looked like to them; he asked Suga once and the older Shadowhunter suggested that it might look like a private temple or a dilapidated church. That kind of made sense since Institute is built on consecrated ground. 

Tall trees flank either side of the road, their branches bare of any leaves or buds. Cherry blossoms, Nishinoya recalls Saeko naming them when he asked one time. If the forecasts are right, they may be lucky to see them bloom and shower their petals in a month or so. It'd be a beautiful sight but a hassle to clean up.

Ryu points at the SUV parked to the side, just before the spot where the road gives way to a cut-rectangular stone path. "I think Suga brought the newcomers already." 

"Dang, I thought we'd have extra time," groans Nishinoya. "Well, I hope they've just arrived." They approach a set of tall gates that guard the Institute. Above the cedar doors, a gabled roof sits and bears a sign that reads 'Sendai Institute' written in both English and Japanese. The wooden doors swing open easily under Nishinoya's touch, revealing the pathway that takes them through the front garden. 

The Sendai Institute loomed ahead, a grand five-story building that was built by Ryu’s ancestors to somewhat resemble the now-destroyed Aoba castle in the city. Nishinoya heard of the tale how the Shadowhunter who built this had initially wanted the Institute to be built on the hill but lost out to a mundane who had a higher social status at that time. It would’ve been cool if the Institute was top of the hill though. 

Instead of taking the straight path that led to the front doors, Nishinoya and Ryu silently agreed to take the smaller, winding path that goes past the pond, the rock garden and ends at the kitchen. Earlier when they were at the convenience store, Ryu’s phone buzzed with several messages from Mrs Tanaka reprimanding them for being late to greet the newcomers. The pair figured they’d be less in the way of her anger if they entered through the back door. 

“We should escape to our rooms, just in case,” suggest Ryu in a voice barely above a whisper when they slip their boots off in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I think that’s the safest option,” replies Nishinoya in the same volume. They step into the corridor, look both ways before tiptoeing towards the stairs. “Should we put on _Soundless_ runes?” Nishinoya’s hand moves to his pocket where his steele is. 

“Nah.” Ryu cocks his head slightly to the side, straining to listen. “We should be alright.”

“Alright for _what_?” demands a voice from behind them and the pair almost scream. Mrs Tanaka bears the most disapproving expression Nishinoya has ever seen on her face. She resembles a lot like Ryu, with the same sharp eyes, high forehead and the ability to make the scariest expression without even trying. Her graying hair is pulled into a tight bun, which always makes her seem more severe and strict. Despite her appearance, she’s actually the most loving woman, except when she’s mad (like now). “You two are late!” she exclaims, causing both Ryu and Nishinoya to flinch. 

“Mom, we were on our way back,” Ryu begins, hands out in a placating manner. “But we ran into a bit of trouble —“ 

“I think cracked one of my ribs too,” contributes Nishinoya. 

“ _What?_ ” Mrs Tanaka’s voice rises sharply.

“An Oni demon got to me in the Izumi ward but it’s all good now! Ryu gave me an iratze!” Nishinoya says quickly, wishing he didn’t mention the ribs. He can almost hear Ryu groaning. 

“Iratze or not,” Mrs Tanaka continues in the same tone, “Ryu is terrible at runes!” Her son’s face goes red at the comment but his lips stay pressed tightly together. “You’d better go ask Shimizu to check you out. The both of you,” she adds, even though Ryu doesn’t appear injured in any way. 

“Yes, Mom,” choruses both Nishinoya and Ryu before they trudge up the stairs. They do their best not to exchange long-suffering looks until they’re out of sight from Mrs Tanaka. 

“Man, that sucked,” groans Ryu. “She didn’t even ask us how our patrol went.” 

“Priorities,” says Nishinoya as if that answered all the mysteries in the world. 

They chuckle, shaking their heads. When they reach the third floor, they hear voices drifting from upstairs. Both of them pause, straining to identify to whom those voices belong to. “The Melbourne Institute fellows?” Nishinoya guesses, craning his head to peer up.

“There you two are!” A young man with a pale, silvery hair hurrying up to them. “I was wondering if you two forgot we’d be having newcomers over.” Sugawara Koushi sounds a little breathless by the time he comes to a stop.

“Suga-san, we can totally explain why we’re late,” begins Nishinoya in case he’s mad too. Unlike Mrs Tanaka, Suga wouldn’t burst like a volcano, although one can tell when he’s angry or upset because his voice takes on a highly disappointed tone. To this day, Nishinoya can’t decide whether he’d rather have Mrs Tanaka or Suga get mad at him as both can make him feel equally as guilty if they did. 

“What?” Suga frowns. Nishinoya resists the urge to sigh in relief as there’s no disapproval in his tone. “It’s fine, you can do that later.” He waves his hand dismissively, passing between them to the stairs. “Kiyoko’s upstairs showing Daichi and Azumane the weapons room. You should go and greet them,” he adds, though it sounds more of a request than a suggestion. 

A crease appears on Nishinoya’s brow. “But we just got back,” he says before he can stop himself. 

Suga stops at the landing and turns back to face them. To Nishinoya, he always resembled more of an angel than any Shadowhunter did. With his pale hair, he also had pretty features and a slender build that turned all heads whenever he was in the room. Aside from his appearance, he could fight as skilfully as any Shadowhunter, albeit with more grace. 

Right now, his eyes are slightly narrowed, an indicator that some of his patience has worn off. He must be stressed, because he’s usually slow to anger. “You’re all in one piece so I don’t see why you shouldn’t greet our new friends.” There’s no disapproval in his tone although his choice of words does get Nishinoya and Ryu following after him. 

“I should’ve mentioned the ribs,” Nishinoya mutters under his breath, earning a slap up the head from his parabatai. 

The three of them reach the fifth floor, where they can hear a female voice speaking clearly now. Ryu perks up, delighted, and picks up his pace. Nishinoya almost teases him about his big crush on Suga’s parabatai, Shimizu Kiyoko. It’s been three years since she and Suga came to the Institute to join the Tanaka’s family’s ranks and the fact that Ryu hasn’t made a move, despite being ‘so in love’ with her, amuses Nishinoya greatly.

The door of the weapons room is open but Suga gives it a knock to let the people inside know they’ve arrived. The walls and floors are made out of white granite, with counters made of the same material rising from the floor. All sorts of dangerous mundane weapons line the walls, ranging from maces to broadswords and _shurikens_. The seraph blades are located on the counter, the _adamas_ glimmering dully in the harsh light. A girl with long dark hair, Kiyoko, is showing a pair of sais to the Shadowhunters from the Melbourne Institute. 

Nishinoya’s steps falter for a moment, frowning. The newcomers are bigger than he expected. They are roughly six feet in height (give or take a few inches), with solid builds and broad shoulders. Both of them are wearing short-sleeved t-shirts, which show off their toned figures. Nishinoya feels a pang of jealousy; he always wished he looked bigger and tougher so people would take him seriously.

He shoots his parabatai a glance and notices Ryu wearing the same envious expression as he does. Then he follows the line of his sight and _Oh_. They’re talking to Kiyoko whose cheeks are faintly pink. No one has ever made Kiyoko blush like that. They must be good-looking, Nishinoya suspects.

Unfortunately, he finds out he’s right when they turn around. The one with short dark hair and a placid smile on his face. With that trustworthy look on his eyes, he seems to radiate an aura of a leader. Someone who sticks to the rules, unlike Nishinoya and Ryu. 

The one next to him is somewhat of an opposite. His hair is tied in a bun though a few brown strands fall over near the side of his forehead. He’s taller than Leader guy and isn’t wearing a smile at all. There’s a slight frown creasing his brow and he has a bit of scruff on his chin. He looks older, which doesn’t make sense since the newcomers are supposed to be eighteen, like Suga and Kiyoko are. And he looks a like a thug.

Ryu shares the same thoughts as Nishinoya does because they tense at the same time, eyeing the newcomers warily. Suga notices them and shakes his head. “Come now,” he says in a gentle but firm tone. “They won’t bite.” He laughs mildly.

Leader guy joins Suga but his laughter sounds strained, like he’s nervous. Unsurprisingly, Thug doesn’t laugh, instead looks away. Nishinoya decides he’s probably a jerk.

“This is Sawamura Daichi,” says Kiyoko as she gestures at Leader guy, who bows slightly. “He’s from the Niigata Sawamuras’ branch, who moved to Australia years ago.” She turns to Thug. “And this is Azumane Asahi. His family was from Nara but he and his mother moved to Melbourne when he was really young.” Thug follows Leader’s example but he doesn’t meet anyone’s gazes.

 _I didn’t need to know their family history_ , thinks Nishinoya sourly as he and Ryu introduce themselves and return the bows.

“Please call me Daichi,” says Leader amiably, no less in fluent Japanese though it has a slight brush of the Tohoku accent. Nishinoya thought it’d sound like the not-quite-right foreigner’s accent, with him being raised overseas and all. “I’d prefer to be on a given name basis with all of you,” says Daichi.

Nishinoya hears Ryu scoff but that’s quickly covered with a cough.

Daichi places his hand on Thug’s shoulder. “And please call this guy Asahi. He doesn’t speak much Japanese and he’s shy so please be kind to him.” Thug’s eyes lift briefly as he nods. 

 _Shy?_ Nishinoya frowns, narrowing his eyes at Asahi. What does he have to be shy about when he looks like that? Like he can take on an Oni without breaking a sweat? When he can make Kiyoko-san blush?

“Well, I do believe that’s enough from the tour of our Institute,” says Suga. “As Kiyoko and I have an investigation downtown to carry out, Noya and Ryu will help you pick a room.” With that, he and Kiyoko grab a few weapons from the wall rack and the counter, put on their gear and leave. 

The four people regard one another up for a few seconds. “Right,” says Ryu so abruptly that Daichi and Asahi flinch. A hot streak of satisfaction pulls Nishinoya’s lips in a genuine grin. _Let them be scared_ , he thinks triumphantly as he watches Ryu approach them both and prod here and there. Daichi hardly seems to mind the intrusion but Asahi stiffens visibly. 

“I’ll take Daichi.” Ryu claps a hand over his target’s shoulder. “And you can show Asahi to his room.” Though parabatais aren’t telepathic to each other’s thoughts, Nishinoya can guess what Ryu’s going for. Better to keep the newcomers close so they can be watched. 

Exchanging a fist-bump with Ryu, Nishinoya jerks his head at the door whilst looking at Asahi. “C’mon, big guy." 

“Oh, but our bags are downstairs,” says Daichi when Ryu chortles.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get them for you.”

They go down the stairs but Ryu and Daichi leave at the fourth floor while Nishinoya leads Asahi to one of the corridors of the third floor.

Unlike foreign Institutes whose hallways are decorated by grand tapestries the Angel Raziel with the Mortal Instruments, the Japanese Institutes have paintings of them on the _fusuma_ , sliding panel doors. However, one thing this Institute shares with its siblings all around the world is the sheer number of rooms it has. Nishinoya remembers the first time he started living here when he was ten he got lost on a regular basis. Saeko, Ryu’s sister, had to help him find his way around. Seven years forward, he could be blindfolded and be spun in circles and he’d still be able to work his way around.

He glances back at Asahi, finding the older Shadowhunter peering at one of them in interest. “Bet they don’t have those in Melbourne, huh?” says Nishinoya. Asahi’s eyes meet his for half a second then it’s back on the paintings on the _fusuma_. A crease forms on Nishinoya’s forehead as he turns back. What a jerk, he thinks again before he comes to an abrupt stop.

Asahi gives a start when his eyebrows arch in question. Nishinoya points at the door to his left. “Yours,” he says, not bothering for formality. “Mine.” He points at to the right at his room. “Okay?” 

Asahi stares at him for a little too long then nods. Wordlessly, he opens the door to his room, steps in and shuts it. There’s not even a ‘Thank You’ uttered in neither Japanese nor English, both of which Nishinoya can understand (though he’s not so good with the latter). Nishinoya stares at the door with an expression of annoyance then shakes his head.

“Rude,” he mutters before retreating to his room.

* * *

About half an hour later, Nishinoya remembers about Asahi’s bags downstairs. He meant to collect it right after dropping Asahi off at his room. Making an impatient noise at the back of his throat, he tosses the mundane sports magazine he was reading to the side and sits up from his futon. 

Feet dragging on the tatami mats that cover his floor, he slides his door open and peers out the corridor. His ribs still ache and he hasn’t had the chance to ask Kiyoko to have them looked at. He doubts he can lug Asahi’s bags upstairs. A heavy sigh leaves his lips; he really doesn’t want to interact with Asahi again. It takes a few seconds for him to talk himself into it for necessity’s sake before he finds himself rapping his fist on Asahi’s door. 

There’s faint shuffling from inside before the door slides open just a crack Part of Asahi’s face peeks out from the gap. “I forgot to help you with your bags,” says Nishinoya without preamble. “They’re downstairs, right?” 

Asahi shakes his head then slides the door open a little more. There’s some bags on the floor near his feet. A small huff of relief escapes from Nishinoya before he catches himself. He draws himself straighter to appear more imposing but it does little to help. Iit grates on him as he hates being looked down on, literally and figuratively. He thinks Asahi’s most likely doing both, which is a plausible explanation as to why he doesn’t breathe so much as a syllable to Nishinoya. 

However whatever bravado Nishinoya possessed diminishes when he looks up at Asahi, whose expression has remained the same since he opened his door. He doesn’t remember what he planned to say but he speaks anyway. “Dinner’s at half past seven and I have a humongous appetite despite my unfortunate tiny body so you’d better not be late.” He isn’t sure where he’s going with this but it’s satisfying to see Asahi shrink back slightly at his tone.

“Suga planned icebreakers right after it so be there. Also, there’s a training session tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn. You and Daichi can join us if you want. But just so you know, just because you’re bigger and tougher-looking than me doesn’t mean that I won’t hesitate to wipe the floor with your ass.”

Asahi’s expression changes, just slightly but enough to make a tiny ripple of triumph to pass through Nishinoya. Flashing a smug smile, he spins on his heel and struts back to his room. If he’s succeeded in intimidating a bigger and stronger person then it makes him feel like a million yen.

* * *

At dinner, everyone except for Nishinoya and Ryu are being exceptionally friendly towards the newcomers. Extra helpings and seconds are offered to them, which Daichi politely declines for his and Asahi’s behalf. Plenty of questions are being asked too; about what life was like in Melbourne; whether the Wrayburns, the family that oversaw the Institute, were doing well; if there were kangaroos in the suburbs and all sorts of stuff. 

Daichi is very accommodating towards the questions but Asahi? Well, if there’s one thing he shares in common with Nishinoya and Ryu is that he focuses on eating. He does look up every once in awhile but it’s probably because he doesn’t want to seem rude to the rest of everyone.

Nishinoya watches him discreetly. The most Asahi’s done is smile and nod at times but other than that he doesn’t speak. Nishinoya is in the middle of trying to remember what Daichi said about his friend’s odd habit when Ryu nudges him from under the table. He glances over at his best friend, arching his eyebrows when Ryu leans over. “They’re parabatai,” whispers Ryu, looking to Asahi and Daichi. 

“How’d you know?” 

“Mr Perfect said so.” It takes Nishinoya a moment to realize Ryu is referring to Daichi. He almost snickers when he sees Ryu glaring slightly in Daichi’s direction. Then his eyes travel slowly to Kiyoko and he has to down some tea to stop himself from laughing. As he sets the cup back on the table, Nishinoya looks up and catches a glimpse Asahi turning away hastily. A frown crosses his features. Was Asahi studying him like he was studying him too? 

He pretends to be occupied with eating but keeps Asahi in his peripheral vision. But if he is hoping he’d catch Asahi staring at him, he isn’t successful because Asahi doesn’t so much as glance his way again. 

Once dinner is over, Mrs Tanaka shoos everyone except for her husband out of the banquet room. “You kids need to get along,” she says, as if Suga hadn’t already planned ahead. 

The young Shadowhunters gather in the meeting room upstairs. Suga gets everyone to sit in a circle and asks introduce themselves again. This time, they have to give a little more information about themselves. Nishinoya suspects is for Saeko’s sake as she just came back from a joint-operation with the Tokyo Institute.

He glances in her way, intending to ask what she thinks of the newcomers only to find her smiling dreamily in Asahi and Daichi’s direction. His mouth falls open in betrayal.

Ryu notices Nishinoya isn’t paying attention, elbow moving to nudge his best friend when he sees what Nishinoya sees. His jaw drops too.

“Ryu? Ryu.” The tiny hint of impatience in Suga’s tone snaps both Ryu and Nishinoya’s attention. “ _Please_ ,” he mouths, frowning. 

Ryu goes first, then it’s Nishinoya’s turn. He bites back the urge to sigh when he stands. His eyes shift slightly to his right and irritation bubbles in him when he notices Asahi is looking at anywhere at him. “I’m Nishinoya Yuu but please call me Noya,” he says a little louder than necessary and he succeeds in bringing Asahi’s attention on him. “That’s all from me.” 

“Alright,” Suga mutters, shooting Nishinoya a baffled look. “We’ll have the Melbourne Shadowhunters introduce themselves next.” He gives Daichi a thumbs-up sign.

“Right,” says Daichi as he stands. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Sawamura Daichi. Ah, I’m here with my parabatai, Asahi, to learn the way … things run here. Pleased to meet all of you.” He bows and sits down. 

Saeko sighs appreciatively and Nishinoya has to hold onto Ryu to prevent his best friend from telling her off. 

And then it falls too silent. Asahi’s eyes travel around before they land on Daichi, who nods in encouragement. Hesitation flickers over his features as he stands up. He’s not looking at anyone in the room, instead at some point on the floor. And then he speaks. “Hello, everyone.”

Nishinoya is taken aback. 

Asahi's voice is husky but gentle. It's deep enough to cause shivers to run down his spine but pleasant enough to make Nishinoya want to listen more of it. With a voice like that, why is he so afraid to speak? Asahi can't possibly be self-conscious of he sounds, can he? 

"I'm Azumane Asahi. I turned eighteen in January. Um, my Japanese isn't very good so please be patient with me."

Nishinoya doesn't realize he's got a frown on his face until Asahi's eyes travels his way and widen fractionally. Even if it’s too late, he schools his features into indifference. 

Suga clasps his hands together in delight then rounds everyone up to play the icebreakers. It’s a bunch of silly games like Two Lies and One Truth, Never Have I Ever and One-Word descriptions. They learn a few things from the newcomers but Nishinoya’s too exhausted by the forced interactiions to care. By the time it’s over, Nishinoya’s one of the first to call it a night. 

Suga notices him slipping away. “Going to bed so early?” he asks. 

“No, not really.” Nishinoya shrugs. “Why?” 

Suga looks back at the room with a thoughtful expression. Then he shuts the door behind him and walks up to the younger Shadowhunter. In the witchlight illuminating the corridors he resembles a pale ghost. “Daichi told me you intimidated Asahi earlier.”

Nishinoya snorts. “Me? Intimidate the Big Guy?” Suga gives him a pointed look. “Okay, maybe a little bit,” he admits and Suga sighs. “Honestly, I was only telling him when dinner is and what time training starts tomorrow. That’s all.” 

Suga squeezes his eyes shut with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Your tone, Noya,” he says, almost chidingly. “You know how that puts people off. And Daichi _did_ say Asahi is shy.” A defiant huff escapes Nishinoya. Sighing once more, Suga places his hands on the younger Shadowhunter. “I’m not asking you to like them right off the bat but … will you make an effort to watch the way you speak to them, especially Asahi?” 

Nishinoya raises his gaze with a frown. He almost gives a nonchalant reply but Suga’s looking at him with so much expectation that he feels like he can’t let him down. “ _Fine_. But don’t blame me if Asahi is still scared of me.”

Suga beams. “Great!” He pats Nishinoya’s shoulder in approval and greets him goodnight. It’s only after he returns to the meeting room does Nishinoya sigh with what sounds like regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shadowhunter terms  
>  **adamas** a heavenly metal from which seraph blades are forged from.  
>  **downworlder** supernatural or hybrid creatures that inhabit the shadow world. may include werewolves, vampires, warlocks, faeries etc.  
>  **iratze** a basic healing rune which is used by the nephilim to heal injuries.  
>  **parabatai** a pair of shadowhunters who have sworn by an oath to fight together as lifelong partners.  
>  **the mortal instruments** three divine instruments granted by the angel raziel to jonathan shadowhunter, the first shadowhunter. consists of the mortal cup, the mortal sword and the mortal mirror  
>  **nephilim** another term for shadowhunters  
>  **raziel** the patron angel of shadowhunters. he was the angel who gave his blood to a person named jonathan, who went to become the first shadowhunter  
>  **stele** a tool used by shadowhunters to draw runes onto their skin. it is made of adamas.  
>  **witchlight** a type of stone/crystal that emits a pure, bright light when used by shadowhunters.
> 
> japanese terms  
>  **fusuma** vertical door panels made of thick and opaque paper that can be used as doors or partitions in rooms.
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated so feel free to leave some. i'll do my best to reply to everyone :)  
> thank you so much for reading and i hope you'll have a lovely day!
> 
> [[ twitter ]](https://twitter.com/azunshi)   
>  [[ tumblr ]](https://avatarclub.tumblr.com)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryu makes his way to Asahi and Daichi to explain the places where they’ll be investigating. He hands the map to Asahi, pointing out the spots while he talks. Nishinoya watches as Asahi’s eyebrows knit together in concentration with his hand on his stubble-covered chin. A curl of brown hair falls over his eyes but he doesn’t tuck it away. With that expression, he almost looks like a different person.
> 
> Then, as if sensing something Asahi’s eyes flicker upwards to meet Nishinoya’s. Somehow, the world falls silent to his ears as the moment drags out. There’s an inexplicable twinge in his chest, seeing the way Asahi’s eyes widen fractionally and his cheeks to color, but before he can identify it Asahi tears his gaze away. He doesn’t assume the same expression as he did earlier; only a terribly awkward look sits on his features.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heheh i think i might be a little too invested in this fic seeing how the word count shot over 10k in the 2nd chapter :')
> 
> anyway, thank you so much for the comments in the previous chapter and the kudos! i appreciate the support as it makes me so excited to continue this fic!

“I’m not surprised they didn’t show up,” sighs Nishinoya as he unscrews his water bottle, leaning against the wall. “For training, I mean,” he adds when Ryu joins him. “D’you think it’s jetlag?”

“Are you kidding me? They didn’t seem all that tired,” scoffs Ryu as he wipes his forehead with a towel. “I bet they decided to join Kiyoko and Suga for their morning jog instead. I heard Suga inviting Daichi last night.” Considering how Suga told Nishinoya off for intimidating Asahi, he doesn’t doubt Ryu’s suspicions.

Him and Ryu are in the training room of the Institute, which is located right across the attic on the fifth floor. It's a large area with all the necessary equipment available from throwing dummies with bullseyes painted to their chests, to safety harnesses for practicing leaps from the wooden beams overhead and extra training gear. The polished wood floors gleam under the mix of dimming witchlight lamps and sunlight pooling in from the windows. The walls are lined with various weapon racks, so one is spoilt for choice.

Nishinoya puts back his training gloves and returns to the punching bag. The sound of his punches and kicks against the leather fills the silence before it gradually fades into white noise. He’s doing his usual routine but instead of his mind going into a state of blank concentration, it wanders. He finds himself pondering about how the newcomers and the other inhabitants of the Institute would get along from today onwards.

No doubt they already had Saeko and her parents wrapped around their fingers, judging from how in awe they seemed last night. Kiyoko may have a crush on them, since Nishinoya noticed the quiet way she watched them when they weren’t aware. And Suga is as warm as always, though he seems to be pushing the ‘friendly guy’ thing a little more than usual. That leaves Nishinoya and Ryu, who have yet to warm up to the newcomers.

Though they’re supposed to be treated like family, it’s hard to do so when Nishinoya has known them for less than 24 hours. Even with the icebreakers, he doesn’t think it’s helped to break the figurative ice. He doesn’t feel a connection with any of them; he only knows facts like what food they like or where they’ve visited, which doesn’t tell him enough about the type of people they are.

When the clock hands reach seven, the two boys leave the training room to freshen up for breakfast. On the way to his room, Nishinoya bumps into Asahi, who is just leaving his. For a moment their gazes cross then Asahi is drawing his gaze away to the floor after a quick greeting. Nishinoya returns the greeting but frowns a little, watching as he walks by hurriedly, shoulders hunched.

And that’s how their interactions go on for the rest of the week.

* * *

One of Nishinoya’s favorite haunts in the city is the bar located downtown that’s run by the city’s werewolf pack. He visits The Lonely Howl whenever he’s not on patrol duty or when he’s got plenty of time to waste. Despite its name, there won’t be a time when anyone finds themselves without company in this establishment. The crowd here, mostly Downworlders, are warm and friendly. Even the employees have a casual relationship with their patrons.

Right now, Nishinoya has a drink in his hand and is chatting to one of the employees who is on a break. “Yeah, and these two dudes showed up,” he says while swirling the glass in his hand, “and they look like they mean business.”

Yaku lets out a short laugh, shaking his head. As far as Nishinoya can tell, they’re about the same age although he hasn’t asked Yaku about it. “Well, are they hot?” he questions cheekily.

There’s a slight pause as Nishinoya takes a sip of the deep amber liquid from his glass. It’s sweet and has a bit of a fizzy aftertaste that lingers on his tongue; he savors the taste before answering. “They are.” A thoughtful frown appears on his features. “Oh, don’t you give me that look, _Morisuke_ ,” he says the werewolf’s given name warningly while its owner smirks at him. “They’re off-limits,” he adds.

“Please.” Yaku scoffs. “When has anything been off-limits to you?” At that comment, a lovely shade of pink colors Nishinoya’s cheeks. Yaku turns in his seat so he’s facing Nishinoya fully. Gone is the playful smile that rests habitually on his face, replaced by a serious look. Nishinoya resists the urge to groan as he knows this is when Yaku gets a little too invested in his personal affairs. Not that it’s a bad thing but Nishinoya has sworn off dating Shadowhunters.

“Are they tolerant?”

“I’ve known them for a week but we’ve barely had time to interact because my tutor’s back and they’re always out on patrol with my senpais. I can’t be sure if they’re into dudes or whatever.”

A half-amused noise that sounds similar to a growl escapes Yaku. “Well, that’s important but not _really_ what I meant.” He taps the crook of Nishinoya’s elbow, right on the faint bluish vein that’s nearly visible on his pale skin.

Nishinoya’s lips purse together as he knows exactly what Yaku is referring to. The cursed blood that runs his veins. The part of him that makes him feel he has to work so much harder than his full-blooded peers to prove his loyalty to the Nephilim, no matter how much they insist he’s one of them.

“Like I said,” he sighs as he places his empty glass on the polished wood counter, “I swore off Shadowhunters. I know I’m one but they’re bad news.” Whether Asahi or Daichi don’t mind about his mixed heritage or not, he won’t consider involving himself in a relationship with them. Besides, they’d leave in a year and Nishinoya doesn’t want to hurt anybody’s feelings.

He pretends not to notice Yaku’s mildly disappointed gaze as he places his money on the bar. “You might have to look elsewhere for a romance story,” he tells Yaku, who scoffs. With a nod at the bartender and a mock salute at Yaku, he hops off his stool and leaves the establishment. Outside, the smell of the streets and the city invigorate him. Even though he likes the atmosphere of The Lonely Howl its air, which is heavy with cloying scents of cigarette smoke, perfume and alcohol, is stifling.

It’s almost three in the morning when he arrives at the Institute. An eerie silence blankets the place. It’s become a habit of his to hold his breath as he takes off his shoes for the fear of waking everyone up. He creeps his way upstairs, careful to avoid the loose floorboards that creak with the slightest pressure.

He’s almost to his room when his ears pick up the low, but muffled, murmur of someone’s voice. His body tenses as he turns his head to locate the sound before he realizes it couldn’t be anyone else’s except for the person who lives across his room. Though he can’t make out exactly what Asahi’s saying, he assumes he is on the phone.

A detached part of Nishinoya, the least trusting part, is tempted to eavesdrop. However, judging from the hushed laughter and the relaxed way Asahi is speaking, he vetoes the idea.  Besides, Asahi sounds like he’s probably talking to someone close to him from home. A girlfriend, perhaps?

He almost snorts at the thought. It goes without a doubt that Asahi isn’t hideous, appearance-wise, but the concept of anyone falling for a timid person like him is laughable.

Nishinoya recalls all the times they’ve interacted, how Asahi shrinks away like a shadow from light whenever they crossed paths. And how quieter his voice becomes when they greet each other in the hallway. And how he can’t look at Nishinoya for more than a second when they talk. For someone of his build and stature, he might as well come in the size of a mouse for the scaredy-cat he is.

What a joke.

Shaking his head, Nishinoya steps back before he realizes his fatal mistake. The floorboard creaks mutinously under his foot. His blood goes cold the same time Asahi stops talking. Without sparing a moment, he retreats to his room, fusuma sliding shut when he hears Asahi’s opens.

He holds his breath, counting until he hears Asahi say something to the person on his phone before he hears Asahi’s door close.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast, Nishinoya watches Asahi from the corner of his eye as Saeko gives everyone a briefing of today’s agenda. He usually does this when they’re in the same room together, only to observe Asahi but today is different. With the idea of Asahi having a significant other on his mind, he finds himself occupied with trying to figure out what’s attractive about Asahi.

Right now, Asahi looks as sleepy as he usually does in the morning—perhaps as a result of talking on the phone in the wee hours? He’s nursing a mug of coffee, eyebrows drawn together in a contemplative frown as he takes measured sips. Sunlight from the window behind him turns the ends of his hair a coppery shade of brown. When Daichi nudges him gently he comes back to the present, gaze sharpening back to alertness. He turns to his parabatai, a question in his eyes.

Something bony jabs into his ribs, yanking him out of looking at Asahi’s side profile to the present. A scowl twists his features as he glares at his parabatai. “What?” he whispers, elbowing Ryu back.

“I know we’ve agreed to keep an eye on them, so to speak,” whisper Ryu back, “but the way you’re staring at Man Bun is creepy.”

Nishinoya opens his mouth to explain but Saeko stops talking about what everyone is supposed to do to call his name. “Yes?” His eyes go wide with faux innocence.

“Please pay attention,” she sighs and his cheeks go slightly pink. “Anyway,” she continues before her voice fades into an indistinguishable blur when Nishinoya zones out.

“I was out last night at the Lonely Howl,” he tells Ryu once Saeko’s finished.

“I thought we agreed not to go there until Lev fixes his flea problem,” deadpans Ryu.

“Yeah, but I don’t recall me going there alone as part of the agreement,” Nishinoya shoots back before his voice drops to barely above a whisper. “Anyway, I came back at like three and I heard Asahi talking to someone on the phone.”

Ryu perks up with interest. “A conspiracy, perhaps?” He sounds delighted.

“No,” says Nishinoya with a half-snort. “What gave you that idea? Back to where I was saying … — Ah, he sounded like he was talking to someone close. I think he might have a girlfriend or something?” The badly stifled noise of mirth coming out of Ryu causes him to grin. “Crazy, right?”

“A wimp like him? Having a girlfriend?” Ryu’s voice is muffled through his hand on his mouth. “Please, that’s the funniest joke —“

The sound of someone purposely clearing their throat causes the both of them to look over. “Hello, boys,” says Daichi with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He’s standing by the door, with his parabatai lingering by his side. “I’m sure you heard what Tanaka-san said.”

The frown on Ryu’s face indicates that he’s about to ask if Daichi’s referring to him when Nishinoya speaks up. “Saeko? Um, not really,” he admits brazenly.

A sigh from the other side of the room makes him turn his head to see Suga shaking his head in disapproval. “You two,” he says, pointing at him and Ryu, “will be bringing Asahi and Daichi to assist the Shiogama Institute in investigating reports of Chtapodi demon sightings at the port.”

At the mention of the fishing town, Nishinoya’s expression tightens. Sensing his parabatai’s discomfort, Ryu pipes up. “Um, it might be a little too much to ask from Noya.”

Suga’s gaze softens with sympathy. “I know it’s a little too close to home,” he begins placatingly, “but Kiyoko and I have to meet up with the Silent Brothers. Saeko could do it but she’s tied down with that Fair Folk dispute. And —“

“Whatever.” Nishinoya gets up. There’s a carefully blank mask on his features. “It’ll be fine,” he says in a flat tone. He ignores the concerned stares directed his way. “Besides, if there’s anything good about Shiogama,” he adds, walking towards the door, “it’s that the restaurants there serve the freshest sushi in Japan.”

* * *

The train ride to Shiogama takes about an hour, which gives them ample time to plan. Ryu’s on the phone with someone from the Shiogama Institute and is marking the spots on the map where demons have been sighted. “Do we have any estimates on their sizes,” he asks, balancing the phone in between his cheek and shoulder. The train jostles over the tracks, causing his hand to jerk slightly on the map. Nishinoya tries his best not to laugh as Ryu silently laments over the uneven mark on the map.

The Shadowhunters managed to get themselves seats at the end of the carriage, between the platform doors and the doors to the other carriage. The mundanes don’t notice a bunch of youths carrying dangerous weapons thanks to glamour runes they applied prior to leaving the Institute. Fortunately, the train isn’t too crowded at this time, otherwise it’d be awkward for a mundane to accidentally sit on them only to spring away in confusion. It’s happened before to Nishinoya and it was hard not to laugh because his stele had poked the salaryman who tried to sit on him, causing the man to appear scandalized.

Sitting across him and Ryu are Asahi and Daichi, their heads bowed together as they chatted. Nishinoya isn’t very good with English so he understands snatches of what they’re talking but it’s difficult for him to catch up because of the way they pronounce the words. Elongated vowels that somehow twist together, statements that sound like questions because of the upwards inflection. Nishinoya rubs at his temples, letting their voices fade below the rattle of the train.

“You good?” asks Ryu as he places a hand on his shoulder.

“Dandy.” Nishinoya sits up but his gaze wanders from the scenery of the city zipping by to Asahi. “Just a little tired,” he says but it’s not entirely a lie. Ryu gives him pointed look, as if to say ‘Maybe you wouldn’t be tired if you didn’t hang around at the Lonely Howl’. He doesn’t feel a shred of guilt though.

Ryu makes his way to Asahi and Daichi to explain the places where they’ll be investigating. He hands the map to Asahi, pointing out the spots while he talks. Nishinoya watches as Asahi’s eyebrows knit together in concentration with his hand on his stubble-covered chin. A curl of brown hair falls over his eyes but he doesn’t tuck it away. With that expression, he almost looks like a different person.

Then, as if sensing something Asahi’s eyes flicker upwards to meet Nishinoya’s. Somehow, the world falls silent to his ears as the moment drags out. There’s an inexplicable twinge in his chest, seeing the way Asahi’s eyes widen fractionally and his cheeks to color, but before he can identify it Asahi tears his gaze away. He doesn’t assume the same expression as he did earlier; only a terribly awkward look sits on his features.

That’s more like the person that Nishinoya has grown familiar with. A strange mix of relief and disappointment swirls inside him as he turns his attention to Ryu.

“Got that?” Ryu asks once he’s done explaining.

“Mhm,” responds Daichi with a nod as he returns the map. When Ryu doesn’t move, he arches his eyebrows. “Is something the matter?”

Ryu’s lips thin into a line. “Well, could you explain it to Asahi-san again in English? No offense, but I feel like maybe he didn’t —”

Daichi’s gaze darkens but he maintains the placid expression. “He understands just fine.” His voice is as taut as a wire.

Blanching, he mutters an apology before scurrying over to Nishinoya. “Not only is he unreasonably good-looking and has a winning personality, he can be really scary,” he grumbles under his breath but it’s clear from the furtive glance at Daichi that he’s intimidated. “How am I _ever_ gonna compete with him for Kiyoko-san?” Nishinoya gives him a sympathetic pat on the back.

When the train comes to a stop at their destination, the Shadowhunters melt in with the crowd of disembarking mundanes. Once they reach the exit, they make their way to the Shiogama Institute.

Nishinoya inhales deeply, catching the faint scent of the ocean in the breeze. Though this town isn’t the place where he spent a part of his childhood, the smell evokes a feelings of bitter longing for his past. He looks over his shoulder, down the street but a cluster of buildings obscures his view of the sea.

Noticing he’s fallen behind of the group, Ryu slows his pace. “Hey, you good?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m fantastic.” Nishinoya tugs the straps of his backpack as he faces his parabatai. “I was thinking of bringing these guys to the fish market after we dispatch the demons.” He points down the junction leading to the mentioned location. “Maybe we could make sushi out of the demons.”

Overhearing his suggestion, both Asahi and Daichi glance over their shoulders with confusion and incredulity. Nishinoya meets their gazes boldly. “They’re essentially big octopuses, right?” A snicker from Ryu causes his lips to curl upwards at the corners. “It’s not bad to try new things, is it?”

Asahi and Daichi exchange looks before deciding Nishinoya is joking. Soon enough, they arrive at the Shiogama Institute.

Since the tsunami that occurred in this town years ago, the previous Institute that was based in this town was destroyed and they were forced to relocate. The current Institute resembles that of a traditional house, which makes it appear incongruous among the modern buildings in the street. However, it is heavily glamored that even the Sendai Shadowhunters had trouble seeing it as anything other than an office building.

Nishinoya does the honor of announcing their arrival by ringing the doorbell. Though they are technically allowed enter without the hassle, it’d be rude to barge in. The sound of pattering footsteps can be heard through the door before it opens. A little boy with bright orange hair and curious eyes peeks from around it before a girl holds it wider. Their eyes round with recognition at Nishinoya’s and Ryu’s faces but narrows slightly at Asahi’s and Daichi’s.

The child is the first to react by wiggling out and crashing into Nishinoya and Ryu with a big hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!” he exclaims in delight. For a child his size, he has a surprisingly strong hold.

“Oh man, Shouyou’s getting heavier!” grunts Nishinoya as he lifts the boy with effort. Shouyou squeals, wrapping his arms around Nishinoya’s neck.

“Hey, Yacchan!” Ryu greets the blonde girl, who’s staring at Asahi and Daichi in some kind of mute awe. “I suppose you know why we’re here today.”

Yachi, the girl, finally looks away from the young men, eyes wide. “Oh, right!” She steps aside to let them enter the _genkan_. “I’ll let the Aki-san and the rest know you’re here!” Visibly flustered, she scurries away from them down the corridor, forgetting about Shouyou.

“How old are you?” asks Shouyou at Asahi. “You’re very big,” he adds when Asahi’s mouth opens. A faint flush appears on Asahi’s cheeks as he purses his lips together.

In unison Nishinoya and Ryu laugh. “Shouyou, where are your manners?” asks Nishinoya as he balances the boy on his hip, facing Asahi and Daichi. “What are you supposed to do when you meet someone new?”

Shouyou’s ears redden. “Introduce yourself,” he mumbles as Nishinoya puts him down. While Shouyou gets acquainted with the them, Nishinoya and Ryu take their shoes off and swap them for indoor slippers reserved for guests. In the middle of Shouyou’s barrage of questions, the little boy remembers the rest of his manners and leads them to the room reserved for receiving guests.

“Uncle Asa can sit here.” He points at one of the cushions lined along either sides of the table. “And Uncle Dai can sit there. Uncle Ryu, here and Uncle Noya, there.” When they have seated themselves accordingly, Shoyou's chest puffs with pride. “I’ll tell Big Brother Kei about this!” he announces before dashing out of the room.

Nishinoya frowns. It’s not that he has any protests being sandwiched between Asahi and Daichi but the two of them makes him feel tiny. Fortunately, they don’t have to wait long because within a minute of Shouyou’s departure, Yachi appears with the other inhabitants of the Institute.

About six months ago, the Shiogama Institute was handed to the eldest son of the Tsukishima family, so it is a bit jarring for Nishinoya to see Akiteru taking a seat at the head of the table instead of his father. Regardless, it’s great to see him as the same person as Nishinoya remembered, as a young man whose face hasn’t been creased with the burden of running the Institute by himself.

Kei, the younger of the Tsukishima siblings, is as surly as always. A pair of headphones sit atop his blond head. He takes the seat to his brother’s right. Three more people join the table until Yachi has to bring an extra cushion for Shouyou to join them, even though he isn’t part of today’s investigation.

The formalities and small talk are observed before Akiteru runs them through the locations where the demons have been sighted. A map of the town is spread over the tabletop, with tiny red units placed on specific parts to indicate demonic presence.

“The demons always make their appearance near the port,” Akiteru says as he takes a bunch of blue units, to represent their team, from a case. “But there has been reports of them disturbing fishermen in the bay.”

“But it’s nothing _too_ serious,” adds Tadashi, the freckled boy beside Tsukishima. “They only destroy their traps and tear their nets and lines.”

“Still, it _is_ worrying how there’s been a sudden rise in sightings.” Akiteru puts the blue units on the map. “We suspect dark magic may be involved so we’ve requested assistance from the High Warlock of Sendai. He has yet to respond.”

“Takeda is a busy warlock,” sighs Ryu. “Noya and I have visited his place a few times and let me tell you about what a nightmare his office looks.”

“Since you know him personally,” begins Tobio, the other sullen face in the room, “you might as well give him a call.” The derisive note in his words is unmistakable. Nishinoya narrows his eyes at him. He’s never liked Tobio much as he finds him as disagreeable as he is racist. As someone who was raised by the extensive but pureblooded Kageyamas, he had adopted their hidebound beliefs and ideals. “Downworlders are obligated by the Accords to assist —“

“I’m well aware of that,” replies Nishinoya coldly.

The corner of Tobio’s mouth curls upwards in contempt. In the air there’s a palpable tension between the two that causes slight discomfort among the other Shadowhunters present. Just as Tobio opens his mouth, presumably to spout something offensive, Akiteru clears his throat loudly. He shoots Tobio an admonishing glare.

“We’ll mobilize at sunset, starting at the Ebisu-ya,” he clarifies, naming one of the shops at the waterway that opens up to the bay. “With that, everyone’s dismissed. Tobio-kun, please stay back as I’d like to have a word with you. Hitoka-chan, please show our guests to their rooms.” 

* * *

“I’m so glad we get to share a room,” sobs Ryu in relief as they drop their bags on the floor. “I can’t imagine how I’d live if I had to sleep in the same quarters as Daichi.” He flops down on the double bed behind him, releasing a satisfied noise.

Nishinoya chuckles as he checks the closet for extra blankets. “You hate him that much, huh.”

After the meeting, Yachi dutifully lead them to the rooms they’d be staying in for the night. The interior is different from his room back home. Instead of being designed in a traditional manner, the room has modern elements to it. A small round table with two chairs sits by the large window panes. A generic painting of the seaside on the wall across the bed. The floors are made of wooden floorboards instead of tatami. The walls are painted a soft shade of blue that reminds Nishinoya of gentle waves by the seaside.

“Ah, here we go.” He tugs out the blankets from under the futon on the shelf and proceeds to drape it over Ryu. Then, he climbs atop the lump and lays there. A cheeky grin tugs his lips as his parabatai groans in complaint. “Imagine how awkward it’d be if you had to share a bed with Daichi,” he says as he rolls off.

A disgusted Ryu pokes out from the thick blanket. “Are you kidding me? I’d make him sleep on the futon.” He pushes the sheets away from him and proceeds to lie in a perpendicular fashion to Nishinoya. “No way am I sleeping on the floor.”

After a lighthearted debate on how the things would be if they aren’t roommates, Ryu eventually dozes off. Though he sleeps like a comatose elephant, he’s very sensitive to any sounds or movements when he naps so Nishinoya takes extra care in slipping off the bed.

There isn’t much to do besides wait so he reviews notes from his tutor’s demon language lesson from yesterday. He doesn’t worry much about the theoretical part of Nephilim education but since his assessments are coming up soon and he’s still awful at conjugating verbs in Purgatic, he hasn’t got a choice. After about half an hour, his brain feels like it’s been reduced to mush so he puts his book away and sneaks out of the room.

As soon as he steps into the corridor, he spots Tobio lurking nearby. A dark sort of grin twists his mouth. “Looking for your favorite filthy half-breed?” he cajoles, using the very same words Tobio had once called him when they were children. “My, my, and here I thought you hated me!”

Tobio stiffens momentarily before narrowing his dull gray eyes. There had been a time when Nishinoya used to be afraid of that look but seeing it now fills him with a poisonous kind of satisfaction. “Me?” Tobio scoffs vehemently. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Nishinoya leans against the wall with a careless air. The only thing giving away his agitation is his intense dark amber gaze. “Why else would you be here?”

Tobio squares his shoulders. Like all the Kageyamas, his mouth is set in a permanent sneer. “It’s none of your concern,” he replies. “Although I’d appreciate it if you’d leave.”

Nishinoya regards him for a few moments, seething, before he straightens up. “With pleasure! I wasn’t looking forward to breathing the same air with a fatheaded bigot.” he exclaims haughtily. He relishes in seeing a blood vessel jump at Tobio’s temple before he strides away.

He doesn’t have a destination in mind but as soon as he finds himself standing before the training room, he knows. The uncomfortable pressure on the backs of his eyes. The hot and constricted feeling in his chest. The acrid taste of bile in the back of his throat. The tremor in his clenched fists at his sides.

He almost wishes he’d dug his heels in this morning, not when Suga gave him a quick recap but when Saeko was briefing them. She’d be disappointed but if he could avoid this whole situation now it’d be worth it.

He shoves the door open, mind set on donning a pair of gloves and taking his anger out out on a dummy when he becomes aware that he isn’t alone. At the very same spot in the room where he intends to be is Asahi.

Nishinoya watches in a detached sort of fascination as Asahi attacks the dummy relentlessly. His punches and kicks are launched in succession that not even the dummy has a chance to wobble back into position, its fall prevented by the weighted bottom. One can tell how much strength he’s packing into it from how loudly the thuds echo around the room.

Sunlight pours in from the window behind Asahi, casting a golden glow on his olive skin. His fitted t-shirt accentuates the taut muscles of his body. His brow is knitted in concentration, soft huffs falling from his lips. Now, he resembles the very person Nishinoya expected him to be when they first met. The strong, fierce and domineering warrior.

For a moment, Nishinoya forgets how angry he is.

However, the scene before him doesn’t last because Asahi’s movements slow to a stop. The silence that follows is almost deafening. The moment Nishinoya realizes, with horror, that he hasn’t made his presence known is the same moment Asahi turns his way.

Both of them freeze at the sight of each other. Nishinoya’s mouth falls open as heat rushes into his cheeks. He must seem terrible and Asahi has probably come to the assumption that he’s been here staring at him working out like a creep. As panic fills him up, he blurts the very first thing that comes to mind. “ **Good day!** ”

He almost slaps himself. The greeting he uttered was from the list of Australian slangs he read online the other day out of boredom. It’s horrifying how his mind has somehow retained it and decided this is the best time to use it, instead of playing it cool.

Asahi’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Hello,” he returns in Japanese. He’s back to being himself, or rather the Asahi Nishinoya’s familiar with. The one who doesn’t talk much, the one who hunches his shoulders a little, the one who doesn’t look him in the eye and so on. Nishinoya doesn’t know why he feels both relieved and frustrated.

There’s an awkward lull before Nishinoya clears his throat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he says. Asahi stares at him for too long before he realizes his words are lost on him. Mouth folding into a thin line, he shakes his head and mutters, “Never mind.”

“Um, this room,” Asahi begins tentatively. “Do you want to use it?”

Nishinoya’s head perks up. His lips part to answer but somehow he doesn’t hear himself say ‘Yes.’ Instead, he hears, “Can you show me how you did that?” To prevent confusion, he mimics the punches and throws Asahi did earlier.

Asahi’s eyes widen fractionally. “This?” He does the same as Nishinoya did when the younger of the two nods eagerly. “Oh.” Color spills into his cheeks as he looks away from Nishinoya. “I’m not very good,” he mumbles.

An impatient noise would’ve escaped from Nishinoya’s throat had he not held back at the last moment. “It’s okay.” He waves his hand dismissively, approaching Asahi. Standing beside him, he raises his fists before looking expectantly at him.

Accepting that there’s probably no other way to convince Nishinoya with his claim, Asahi takes on the same defensive stance as the boy beside him. Then, he shows does the moves in slow motions. Nishinoya follows his movements, taking note of how Asahi shifts his weight on his feet and how he positions himself after each punch or kick.

“Yeah, that’s it,” says Asahi once he’s finished. The corners of his lips are turned upwards slightly.

When Nishinoya notices, a sudden warmth expands in his chest. He realizes this is the first time he’s ever seen Asahi smile, not out of politeness or awkwardness, but genuinely at him. And he finds himself smiling back while his heart races with delight. This feels like such a huge step from their previous interactions, which were limited to curt greetings before hurrying off to do whatever they needed.

And it feels good.

* * *

As planned, the Sendai and Shiogama Shadowhunters gather at their first target area. The fishing tackle store nearby is closed, which makes things more convenient for them. Nishinoya stands by the edge of the Tsukishmas’ boat, peering thoughtfully into the distance. The faint rocking of the boat and the sound of gentle rippling of waves takes his mind off the minor argument going on between Tobio and Kei nearby.

The sky is painted in a soft hues of pink, lilac and blue. With the faint breeze carrying the scent of salt from the ocean, this moment would make for a perfect time to relax. Not be acutely aware of how restless he is about the investigation and how anxious he is for this thing to be over.

“So,” says Ryu as he sits beside Nishinoya. “Takoyaki?” he suggests; it must’ve been the nerves getting to him because Nishinoya bursts out laughing.

“If we can chop off a tentacle or two off that sucker before it disappears.” He shakes his head. “I wonder how it’d taste.”

Ryu makes a face. “Its meat would probably be stringy and coarse in texture,” he opines. “And it might take too long to cook too.”

An amazed expression decorates Nishinoya’s features. “Look at you,” he chuckles, slapping Ryu’s back. “You sound like a food expert.” His parabatai grins, obviously flattered. Prior to leaving the Institute, Nishinoya gave Ryu a couple of runes for battle but he checks him over again to make sure everything looks fine.

A Technique rune winks at him from Ryu’s right forearm, while a Waterproof rune rests on his other. There are Agility, Endurance and Surefooted runes on his legs hidden under his jeans. Nishinoya has the same runes as he did, and he can somehow feel their power humming on his skin, waiting for the right time to spring into action.

On the starboard side, Kei is pacing about. A trident is strapped to his back, glimmering as it catches light. Nearby, sitting on a crate together is Yachi, looking faintly green. Tobio is glaring at the water as if it’s bubbled something offensive to him; he must still be seething from his argument with Kei.

“Look alive, everyone,” calls Akiteru from behind at the wheel. “The sun will be down in a few minutes so please be on standby.” Footsteps thump over the deck as everyone gets into position.

Kei, Tobio and Yachi are defending the front while Asahi and Daichi are on either sides of the boat. Nishinoya and Ryu are assigned to the rear. It’s silent, except for the sounds of the waves around them.

“Would now be a good time for a Good Luck rune?” Nishinoya jokes but there’s a faint tremble in his voice. His knuckles are white against his pale skin as he grips the bone handle of the knife on his belt.

Ryu snorts. “You know those never work, right?”

“No harm trying.” Nishinoya turns his gaze skywards, noting how the colors he saw earlier swallowed by the deep blue. _It won’t be long till they show up_ , he thinks as he swallows past the lump in his throat.

The boat bobs gently over the waves as it travels towards the open water. Akiteru’s doing a fine job driving this vessel, making sure it doesn’t sway too much.

A few minutes pass, the sun already disappearing well below the horizon, but Nishinoya doesn’t dare lower his guard. A breeze picks up, carrying the smell of salt into his nose and stinging his eyes. His hand is clammy from holding his knife’s handle for too long but he doesn’t dare to release it to wipe his hand.

Churning waters shone in a mix of dark gray and black, white slashes appearing on peaks of the waves. The lights of the city shimmered over it. Nishinoya’s body tenses when he spots a flash of silver in the darkness, only to relax when he makes out the shape of a mermaid’s tail.

Beside him, Ryu clears his throat. “Could you give me a Night Vision rune?” he asks over the hum of the engine. “It’s making me antsy. The water.”

Nishinoya clucks under his breath as he steps away from the edge. The nervous jitter in his muscles diminishes but doesn’t disappear. He pulls his stele out of his pocket with his free hand. “Where?”

“My nape.”

The stele lights up faintly as Nishinoya traces the lines of the rune onto his parabatai’s skin. With decisive flicks of his wrist, he completes the Mark. As he puts his stele away, something darts in the corner of his vision ahead to the left. He stops short, turning to look.

The Farsighted rune on his shoulder blade burns as he strains his eyes to see. He’s certain he spotted something in the water. The hand on his knife tightens as he takes a few tentative steps forward.

Behind him, Ryu nocks an arrow on his bow. “What’s wrong?”

Before Nishinoya can call out to Daichi, to ask if he’s seen the same thing as he did, something long whips out of the water. His cry is cut short when that thing—a tentacle, he realizes at the last millisecond—coils around his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> japanese terms  
>  **genkan** a traditional japanese entryway of a house where you are supposed to remove your shoes before entering.  
>   
> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He remembers the way Nishinoya leapt into the battle, dark gold eyes shining with an almost inhuman kind of ferocity. He remembers how he bared his teeth in a grin, relishing in the way the demon sunk beneath the waves as ichor trailed in its wake. 
> 
> But then he remembers the way those same fierce eyes regarded him with curiosity while he trained in the afternoon, and how they lit up when he was pleased to learn Asahi’s moves.
> 
> Around Nishinoya, Asahi can never be quite certain of his emotions. They range from anxiousness to admiration and wanting to befriend Nishinoya to keeping his distance; it's a constant and never-ending push and pull.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did a little bit of minor editing for the previous chapters like changing ryuu to ryu (bc it's a pain to write two u's) and changing the warlock's name (bc i realized i got the name wrong) but otherwise the previous chapters' are unchanged jsdjsj
> 
> also added a new tag (mutual pining) bc i decided i might as well include asahi's pov 👉👈

Darkness slams into Nishinoya as his body crashes under the waves, breaking into a world where an unforgiving cold existed to surround him. The pressure around his body tightens, squeezing the air out of him. Panic seizes him as he sinks deeper into the water; his lungs are burning, every instinct of his screaming at him to breathe, as he thrashes against the tentacle wrapped around him.

As a Shadowhunter, Nishinoya has faced all kinds of danger upholding his duties. He knew the high chances of dying is part of the job, an occupational hazard. He knew that most Shadowhunters died young. He thought he’d accepted the possibility that he wouldn’t be an exception, that one day his body would be encased in a casket and set on fire while his loved ones watched. Except for now. 

None of his experiences had prepared him for this moment. The moment where sheer terror clamped on you like a vise, overriding your logic and causing everything about you to fall apart.

Suddenly, the grip on him loosened before releasing him all together. Then his instincts overtake him, causing him to swim desperately upwards. As soon as his head breaks through the surface, he sucks in a heaving gasp but ends up choking on saltwater. Shouts arise from the Tsukishimas’ boat as it putters to a stop. 

With every ounce of strength, he swims towards the it as fast as his limbs allow him. His hands slam onto the ladder on the side of the boat, cold metal stinging into his numb skin. Someone yanks him onto the deck before he finds himself being smacked on the back. The action causes him to retch and cough before his mouth releases bitter water onto the deck. 

“Okay, please stop hitting me,” Nishinoya complains weakly, pushing his hand out at whoever is slapping his back. 

“Oh god, is it all out?” He turns to see that it was Ryu all along. His parabatai looks as pale as a sheet, his wide eyes shining with worry. Nishinoya nods before registering the commotion around him. “How are you feeling?” Somehow, Ryu’s low tone is audible over the noise. 

 _Like I almost died_ , Nishinoya wanted to say. _I was so scared, Ryu._ Instead, he pulls himself shakily to his feet and manages a smile. His throat is raw that it hurts a little when he laughs. “Ryu,” he begins, eyes glimmering with a dangerous light. “We have to make takoyaki out of that thing.” 

Ryu’s expression goes through a series of changes, going from relief to confusion then realization before exasperation. “If that demon doesn’t kill you by the end of tonight, I will do it myself!” He smacks Nishinoya’s back again, hard enough to cause him to stumble forward a few steps. “ _Goddamit, Yuu_.” he adds with a glower before they split up. 

The demon surfaces near the port side, lashing its tentacles at the boat; for now, it doesn’t appear to be intent on snatching but rather attacking the Shadowhunters onboard. Tobio dodges one of its tentacles before driving his sword downwards. The tentacle evades it and whip towards Kei and Akiteru who are running over, knocking the brothers down.

“Keep it occupied!” calls Daichi over the wind. Somehow, he’s on top of the center console, crouched alongside Ryu. In his hands is a crossbow and he has it aimed at the demon, who is thrashing about.

“Easier said than done,” grumbles Akiteru as he grabs a trident by his feet when an arrow whizzes past him. 

Nishinoya’s about to join them when he hears something from the back of the boat. The cry is high and inhuman, causing goosebumps to pepper his skin. He skids to a stop before running to where the sound came from.

His heart tumbles to an abrupt stop when he sees Asahi and Yachi engaged in a fight with another one of the octopus-like demons. The second demon has just latched its ugly tentacles to the side of the boat, pulling its body onboard. A glittering line of silver, Yachi’s whip, bears down on the demon and tears open a bloody gash on its slimy skin. Asahi manages to get within range, swinging his broadsword, and cutting off several of its limbs. The tentacles flop onto the deck, writhing as black ichor spurts from the wound. 

The two of them jump back, avoiding the poisonous spray when the demon screams. They only have time to look up when it slams its body forward, knocking them backwards. 

Time seems to slow down as Nishinoya leaps onto a crate. His knife slides smoothly out of its sheath. He takes aim but his hands shake a little. Then the knife flies. 

The demon has just wrapped its tentacles around Asahi’s and Yachi’s feet, intent on dragging them to their deaths, when Nishinoya’s knife pierces through its head. Barely a heartbeat passes when Ryu leaps down from the console, finishing it off with several arrows to its body. It cries, releasing the Shadowhunters immediately as its body begins to fold upon itself.

“You guys okay?” Nishinoya attends to Yachi first once the demon completely disappears. She appears to have suffered worse than Asahi did; aa line of scarlet trickles from her temple where her head banged against the deck.

“I think I need to take a nap,” she mutters but Nishinoya props her on his lap.

“You need an iratze.” Nishinoya fights to keep his senses about him as he pulls his stele out. As he applies several healing runes on her, he asks her questions to ensure that she hasn’t gotten a concussion from the blow. She turns out fine but as soon as Nishinoya tells her to sit inside the console, another demon rises from the sea. 

They dispatch the demons in the area within fifteen minutes but Nishinoya’s more worn out than he would be fighting on land. On top of that, he’s shivering violently from the cold, which he didn’t notice during the heat of the battle. As the Shadowhunters gather to regroup, someone throws a warm fluffy towel over him.

The air is heavy with the sour scent of rot, acid and ichor. A light drizzle picks up, splattering fine droplets on the surface of the deck. Nishinoya cranes his head up, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the clouds gathering in the night sky.

“This is going to be a long night,” sighs Akiteru as he plops down on the deck. From where Nishinoya’s standing, he can see something slimy and greenish stuck in his now disheveled hair. “How many were there again?” he asks Kei nearby, who’s cleaning water off his glasses. 

“Three,” answers Kei. “But judging from their sizes, they’re most likely juveniles,” he adds, removing his boot to find a stray bit of seaweed. 

“Aw man,” groans Ryu. “You mean there’s bigger ones out there?” 

“Possibly.” In the harsh lights glowing from the console, Akiteru’s face resembles a grim shadowed mask. 

“Anyway, the Sensor’s not acting crazy now,” says Tadashi, holding up a device; it resembles one of those old and indestructible Nokia phones, except the buttons have glyphs on it. “So I guess the area is clear.” 

 “We still have a few more areas to check out.” Akiteru rubs the back of his head before cringing; his hand comes away with goop on it. “We’ll head to the next area after a five-minute break,” he says as he wipes the slime off his hand with a handkerchief. 

* * *

As soon as their short break ends, a loud ringing noise pierces through the silence that settled on the boat. Asahi, who is still brimming with adrenaline from the fight, leaps to his feet only to feel like an idiot when he sees Ryu pull out a pink flip phone from his pocket.

“It’s from Takeda-san,” he announces before taking the call.

“ **Relax, big guy**.” Asahi doesn’t have to turn his head to know Daichi’s laughing at him; it’s evident from the amusement in his tone. He’s standing by the railing, elbows resting on the metal bar, watching Asahi with a faint smile. A huff of indignation falls from Asahi’s lips as he joins Daichi. 

Moonlight spills from the night sky, casting a silvery-white glow over everything it touches. It’s almost ironic how the sea is tranquil now, compared to earlier when demons rose with sharp, unearthly cries. 

The swaying of the boat over the waves does little to quell the insistent hum of anxiousness in the back of Asahi’s mind. Though he knows they are now leaving the first target area, he can’t help worrying that there might be something following them beneath the waves, waiting for the right moment to ambush.

“ **Hey, now**.” Daichi’s voice is soft but clear over the hum of the engines. Though he looks calm and composed, Asahi can sense worry in his gaze. “ **I’m with you** ,” he says. To others it may not sound like much of a statement but it speaks volumes to Asahi.

Lips pressed together, he reaches out for Daichi, who does the same. At Daichi’s touch tension melts away from his body and is replaced by a wash of cool relief. A long breath is drawn out of him before he opens his eyes once more. The sea doesn’t appear that frightening anymore. “ **And I with you**.”

Daichi’s eyes shines with fondness as he draws his hand away from Asahi’s shoulder. Then, he looks back when a new expression settles on his features. Asahi follows his gaze, to the tiny figure huddled in between the equipment crate and the pile of rope. “ **Why don’t you check on how Noya is doing?** ” suggests Daichi in a light tone. 

Out of everyone Asahi has met from the Sendai Institute, he feels like the hardest person to get along with is Nishinoya. And the fact that Daichi pushing him to get along with the younger Shadowhunter invites a new kind of tension to settle in him. 

Asahi casts a nervous glance over his shoulder, nearly flinching to find Nishinoya staring back at him. There’s something about Nishinoya’s gaze, the intensity of it, that causes Asahi’s skin to prickle with heat.

He remembers the way Nishinoya leapt into the battle, dark gold eyes shining with an almost inhuman kind of ferocity. He remembers how he bared his teeth in a grin, relishing in the way the demon sunk beneath the waves as ichor trailed in its wake. 

But then he remembers the way those same fierce eyes regarded him with curiosity while he trained in the afternoon, and how they lit up when he was pleased to learn Asahi’s moves.

Around Nishinoya, Asahi can never be quite certain of his emotions. They range from anxiousness to admiration, wanting to befriend Nishinoya to keeping his distance, the constant and never-ending push and pull. 

Asahi fights the instinctive urge to look away. 

In the space he’s occupied Nishinoya appears smaller than usual, clinging to that damp towel around his body. His hair, which is usually styled upwards in spikes, now sweeps over his forehead and a little past his ears. There’s a blank but thoughtful expression resting on his features as he picks at the towel. A small breeze picks up and he shivers, drawing the towel tighter around him. Asahi almost winces in sympathy; it can’t be all that uncomfortable to be soaking like that. As if to emphasize, Nishinoya releases a violent sneeze that causes his head to throw back from the recoil.

A stifled noise escapes from Daichi and Asahi almost glares at him for laughing.

After a heartbeat or two, Asahi caves in to his parabatai’s suggestion. He treads towards Nishinoya carefully like he’s approaching an easily frightened animal, which on hindsight is ironic since he’s the one who’s been frightened of Nishinoya. 

Eyebrows arched questioningly, Nishinoya regards him. “Yes?”

Asahi fidgets for a moment, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “ **Are you alright here?** ” His voice comes out barely above a whisper; he clears his throat. “ **You look very cold** ,” he says, louder this time. His fingers twitch on the zipper of the bomber jacket he’s wearing.

Nishinoya shifts a bit, brow creasing slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just dandy, really. I’m really hoping we can meet Takeda before I freeze —“ Suddenly, his eyes widen and his jaw drops. For a moment, Asahi worries yet another sea demon has risen from the sea behind him when a puzzled frown crosses Nishinoya’s features. “Wait, I thought you weren’t good in Japanese.” Though there’s no hint of accusation in his tone, just surprise, Asahi winces slightly.

As far as he knows, he’s speaking in English and Nishinoya’s replying in Japanese. Regardless, he pulls up his sleeve to reveal the rune etched into the underside of his forearm. “ ** _Speak in Tongues_** ,” he says, naming the rune. 

Recognition dawns on Nishinoya’s eyes. “No wonder,” he muses with a quirk of his lips. 

Asahi will admit it’s helped him understand what everyone was saying for the evening. No longer did he wrack his brains over making sense of all the words around him by translating them to English but listening and understanding them with perfect clarity. However, as convenient as it is the rune is temporary and its effects should cease by daybreak. Although the idea of reapplying it for the sake of its usefulness is tempting, it defeats the one of the many purposes of him coming here to Japan which is to immerse himself in the native language.

Some part of Asahi feels really stupid about what he’s about to do. Nishinoya would undoubtedly be fine without his offer—after all, he nearly drowned but came back kicking shortly afterwards—but it’s too late to stop his hands from unzipping his jacket. But before he can offer it to Nishinoya, the boat rumbles to a stop. 

“We’re here!” Nishinoya leaps to his feet and brushes past Asahi without so much as a second look. Some part of Asahi withers as he zips his jacket up. No, he _definitely_ isn’t feeling bad about himself for being unable to give his jacket on time. 

The boat docks at a jetty and the Shadowhunters disembark. Waiting for them in the moonlight is the High Warlock of Sendai. 

When one says the High Warlock of whatever city, all Asahi can think of is either a very powerful but wizened person dressed in clothes of a bygone era, or a stylish and young person with the penchant for flamboyance. So when Akiteru introduces the warlock who would be assisting them, he does a double take.

Takeda Ittetsu does not meet either of his expectations. He’s dressed in a light green windbreaker over a Naruto t-shirt, jeans and sneakers. He has a youthful appearance; messy dark curls brush over his forehead as a friendly gaze smiles from behind a pair of thick glasses. He looks like a college kid, the kind that Asahi often sees hanging around at hipster coffee shops tucked away in street corners, though he could be hundreds of years old. The only features that give him away are his clawed hands and scaly, snakelike skin gleaming in the moonlight.

There’s a modest air about him as he bows in greeting at everyone, offering a gentle and easygoing smile. “I sincerely do apologize for coming late, even though young Tanaka has mistakenly sent me the wrong time,” says Takeda, turning to Akiteru. “I’ve read the reports you sent me and consulted with the local Downworlder community for any suspicious activity in the area.” 

“Has anyone come up with anything?” 

Takeda shakes his head. “Unfortunately not. However, I did get some bits of info you should know.” Tiny green sparks appear in the air as he snaps his fingers before files appear out of thin air. Akiteru pulls a witchlight stone from his pocket, the object blazing into light as he holds it above the file. Everyone leans closer to see. 

“According to the warlock community, the Chtapodi demons found in this area belong to the subspecies of demons that don’t become subservient with the use of dark magic,” he explains, pointing at a messy scrawl of a description and a hastily drawn diagram of the demon.

“So no dark magic,” mutters Tobio, hand rubbing at his chin. 

“Nope.” Takeda pushes his glasses up his nose, lips pressed into a line and cheeks faintly pink. “The, ah, reason is much simpler than that,” he mumbles awkwardly before shooting Yachi an apologetic look. Before Asahi can figure why he did that, Takeda says, “It’s breeding season.” 

Shattering silence replies his statement as the Shadowhunters regard him, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief. Someone coughs delicately from behind Asahi but he already knows who it is. 

“B-breeding season?” Mouth agape, Yachi stares at Takeda as though he’s sprouted another head.

There’s a snicker, followed by another badly stifled laughter, from behind Asahi when Ryu’s voice floats up. “So the octopi demons were just looking for a hook-up? Because they can’t get laid on the sea floor?” 

Takeda sighs, covering his face like an embarrassed schoolgirl, and nods. There’s a few more snickers before Kei makes a snarky comment under his breath, prompting Nishinoya and Ryu to shut up. Out of everyone in the group, only the two of them are highly amused about the demons looking for a mate while the others are stiff with awkwardness.

“There haven’t been records of that,” Akiteru points out, perplexed. “Otherwise we would’ve considered it.” His brows furrow together. 

Takeda’s expression softens into sympathy. “If memory serves me right, it might’ve been destroyed along with the old Shiogama Institute during the tsunami few years ago, right?” At his suggestion, Akiteru straightens with realization. “I thought as much.” 

Before anyone can continue, Nishinoya releases yet another violent sneeze from the back. “Well, I’d love to keep talking,” he says before shouldering his way through. His eyes glitter with impatience. “But my ass is freezing and I hate these damp clothes.” Asahi’s mouth almost drops at how he spoke at Takeda before he remembers that he and the warlock are on casual terms.

Takeda blinks, as if finally realizing Nishinoya’s state, then gestures for the rest to step aside. Nishinoya looks around him, eyebrows arch when Takeda snaps his fingers together. A spark of green fire blinks for a millisecond when all the water on Nishinoya is sucked up to form a tiny sphere. Takeda merely points at the sea and it whizzes past and returns to its source.

Afterwards, they return to their boat but Takeda casts a few temporary protection charms on it. “Horny demons can be nasty,” he explains when Tadashi peers on curiously. Once he’s satisfied, he joins the Shadowhunters and they carry on with their mission.

* * *

Though the process of locating the Cthapodi demons was easy task as they readily challenged the Shadowhunters by rising out of the sea, slaying them isn’t child’s play. More than a few times someone almost ended up overboard but Takeda was always there to pull them back with his magic. The demons have gotten more aggressive too as the night drew on that runes had to be hastily applied right before engaging fights with them. 

By the time the last of the demons were killed, the soft gold threads of dawn ray from the horizon. 

Asahi almost cries with relief when Akiteru announces that their mission is now complete. His broadsword clatters onto the deck at his side before he plops down. Waves of exhaustion batter him as the last of his _Energy_ rune fades into a pale scar on his skin. Loose strands of brown hair straggle from his bun onto his back. 

“ **I never want to pull an all-nighter ever again** ,” he groans when Daichi joins him. His parabatai doesn’t look good too; there’s a weary sort of paleness to his features, dark bags gathering beneath his eyes and a mix of sweat and seawater pasting his dark hair to his forehead. He lies down, head pillowed by Asahi’s lap. 

With his eyes shut, he says in a ragged sort of voice: “ **If I go to sleep, don’t wake me up.** ” Asahi laughs before jigging his lap a bit, earning a narrow-eyed glare from Daichi.

“ **You’re not sleeping unless I am too**.” 

“ **When we get back, I’m gonna apply for parabatai divorce** ,” Daichi states plaintively with a pout. “ **You’re an asshole**.” His threat falls on deaf ears because Asahi jiggles his leg once more before he earns a slap on his arm. That’s when he stops and lets Daichi doze off on his lap. 

Around him, the other Shadowhunters are just as fatigued. Tobio is passed out near the console, face-down, while Tadashi is nodding off beside him. Kei sits a little away from them, yawning hugely, while Yachi’s head rests on his shoulder. Takeda is slumped near a crate, his glasses perched askew on his nose. Akiteru, who will be driving them back, has enough sense to etch another Energy rune before shaking himself like a dog. 

The only outliers to the exhaustion endemic on this vessel are Nishinoya and Ryu, who are dancing excitedly around what appears to be a severed mottled piece of tentacle. Asahi almost gags when Nishinoya drapes that slimy thing around his shoulder like a mockery of a feather boa. 

“ **Don’t** **you** **dare** **puke** **on** **me** ,” mutters Daichi in a low tone, eyes still closed. 

“ **Sorry**.” Asahi tears his gaze away, trying to ignore the mutinous roiling in his stomach, and focuses on watching Daichi’s chest rise and fall with his breath. 

Minutes slip by until they finally reach the jetty that’s reserved for the Institute’s boat. Akiteru rounds everyone up to conduct a post-mission meeting before thanking Takeda for his assistance, to which the warlock blushes profusely and stammers something about it being his job and all. 

“Oh, don’t be so modest!” Ryu claps Takeda so hard on the back that the warlock’s glasses almost fly off his nose. “You were like _Bam! Whoosh! Green fire and lightning!_ ” The Shiogama Shadowhunters, who were uncomfortable by the familiarity in his earlier gesture, manage a few laughs at his comical reenactment. 

“Alright, leave him be.” Akiteru swoops to a rather embarrassed Takeda’s rescue, delegating the task of packing the equipment and weapons into the van to the group before he discusses payment with the warlock. 

* * *

There’s something about the repetitive yet soothing motions of having his hair brushed that puts Asahi at ease. Perhaps it may be partly because Daichi, the person he trusts above all others, who’s doing the brushing or the gentle motions of the bristles across his scalp. Either way, it does wonders to nudge the tension out of his body and fill him with a familiar sense of safety and contentment.

The mission ended right before the sun peeked over the horizon and carved a trail of gold along the sea. Though demons would not make their appearance since they were mostly exterminated, Asahi’s body was as taut as a wire. The uncomfortable anxiousness that’s been plaguing him since the night before didn’t leave even when they reached the shore. Only within the walls of his and Daichi’s shared room did his shoulders finally slump with relief. 

Daichi’s face is a mask of focus, eyebrows slightly drawn together as he fixates his attention onto the task at hand. Earlier when Asahi had finished drying his hair from the shower, Daichi offered to help him tie it. It’s not the first time he’s done it although it’s been awhile since he offered. 

Asahi regards his parabatai’s reflection in the mirror; he tries to imagine Daichi brushing his sister’s hair. His face relaxed and his eyes full of love Daichi’s gaze meets his in the mirror and the corner of his mouth lifts into a crooked smile. 

“ **What?** ” Asahi smiles back and tells him what he thought. A snort tumbles out of Daichi. “ **That girl**.” There’s a half-note of wistfulness in his voice. “ **I wonder if she’s doing fine. She hasn’t called me in a week**.” He plucks a hair tie from the dresser. 

“ **Wouldn’t want her big brother to get all homesick so soon**.” 

“ **I guess**.” With a few twists, he completes his task and steps back with a proud grin. “ **Voila** ,” he says with a flourish of his hand. 

Asahi has been avoiding his reflection the whole time so when he checks the mirror, a single monosyllabic sound escapes him: “ **Oh**.” Instead of his usual tight hairdo, his bun is now looser and sits lower on the back of his head. The longer strands are kept out of his face but the shorter ones frame the sides of his face, giving his features a softer appearance. With his new hairstyle, Asahi looks younger and more laid-back and perhaps less severe than his older one made him appear. “ **I look … different**.” He’s painfully aware that it’s a discernible understatement of Daichi’s handiwork but he can’t help it. His fingers twitch with the urge to fix his hair to his usual style.

A short noise that sounds like a cross between a laugh and a scoff comes out of Daichi. He’s shaking his head and rolling his eyes ever so slightly. “ **You should tie your hair looser sometimes. Might do you good for your receding hairline** ,” he adds in a cheeky tone.

Asahi flushes an indignant shade of red as he stands up. “ **I do _not_ have a receding hairline**.” But he files Daichi’s advice into his mind’s storage. 

Other than his jeans, he hasn’t gotten dressed yet. The parabatai rune stands out in stark black lines against the right side of his chest—it’s the only permanent rune he has besides the Voyance rune on his right hand. 

When he was younger, he found the process of Marking himself to be uncomfortable. He didn’t know if it was possible for a Shadowhunter to be allergic to runes but whenever he applied them, the skin around the edges of the rune would be reddish for a week and sting at the slightest touch. Now, it’s not as bad and his skin doesn’t get irritated as much but he prefers Daichi drawing runes on him. Of course, he appreciates the benefits of the added effects—runes drawn by one’s parabatai tend to be more powerful—but he loves the warm and pleasant sensation he gets when Daichi traces the stele over his skin.

“ **We’re going out for breakfast at the market, right?** ” questions Asahi as he pulls his favorite sweater over himself.

Daichi pauses for a moment. “ **Yeah, but I don’t think we need to any glamor runes for now**.” Asahi considers reapplying the _Speak in Tongues_ rune for good measure before deciding against it.

They head downstairs to wait for the rest but apparently they’re not the only ones in the waiting room. Tadashi and Ryu are playing a game where one of them says a word and the other has to use the end-syllable of it to form a new one. Nishinoya sits across them at the table, a grin sitting on his features as he watches them. Soon, the others join them one by one until Akiteru pokes his head round the door and calls everyone to the van.

The local fish market is already open to public when they arrive. As they’re early, it isn’t crowded with people although the ones who are present tended to be older mundanes and the occasional Downworlder. The stalls offer a wide variety of seafood to offer from bivalves to huge lobsters and crabs, and fish of different shapes and sizes. The air is filled with shouts of fishmongers announcing special prices to the thud of cleavers against the cutting boards. A faint fishy odor wafts around the place.

Akiteru explains their breakfast options as they find a place to sit in the area reserved for eating. They can choose between making their own seafood bowl or buying ready-made sushi from the vendors. After that, everyone except for Tobio, who will reserve the table for them, disperses. Unsure of what to choose, Asahi decides to follow his parabatai around the market while he makes up his mind. 

They drift from stall to stall as they wander around, looking about curiously. At some point, Asahi witnesses a fishmonger chopping the head off a fish, wincing when the cleaver connects to the board with a dull noise. “ **I feel kinda bad for the fish** ,” he tells Daichi. 

“ **It’s never too late to go vegetarian** ,” replies Daichi. 

In the end, Asahi settles for a sushi breakfast while Daichi chooses a large seafood bowl. When they return to their table, they find Kei and Yachi putting mackerel fillets on a small barbecue grill they rented. Shortly the rest return, bringing with them trays of food and drinks. 

Asahi takes a bite out of his sushi and is amazed by how fresh it tastes; Nishinoya wasn’t lying about how this place offers the freshest seafood around, it seems. He’s about to offer Daichi some of his breakfast, turning, when his eyes catch on what appears to be the biggest portion of food he’s seen around the table. His eyebrows shoot upwards. 

Eating the said portion is none other than Nishinoya. Perhaps eating isn’t the right word; he looks ravenous as he inhales his breakfast. Asahi stares on as he chomps down on a salmon fillet and gets started on another. For someone of Nishinoya’s build, he can’t imagine where all those food goes.

As if hearing his thoughts, Nishinoya looks up from the oyster on his plate. For a terrifying moment, Asahi fears he’s about to tell him not to stare while he’s eating. Instead, Nishinoya cocks his head a little to the side in questioning when he perks up. “Do you want some?” he asks.

In his little bubble of apprehension, Asahi barely hears his question. “It’s fine,” he says, shaking his head. But somehow Nishinoya grins and that expression sends a strange, tingling warmth through him. 

“Here.” A grilled oyster is deposited on Asahi’s plate before he knows it. “It’s from Matsushima,” Nishinoya says as he sits back. Why that’s relevant enough to be stated, Asahi has no idea but there’s an awkward set to his smile when he thanks Nishinoya. He’s hoping it’s enough to make Nishinoya return to his food but the guy is staring at him with something akin to expectation.

As perceptive to his parabatai’s distress as always, Daichi turns his head before spotting the oyster. “Oh, Asahi can’t eat that,” he says. 

Nishinoya frowns. “Why not?” 

“He’s … allergic to mollusks.”

Realization dawns on Nishinoya’s features. “Oh, I didn’t know,” he mumbles, averting his gaze to the oyster on Asahi’s plate. 

Ryu overhears the conversation and joins in. “Really? That’s such a shame,” he says although he doesn’t sound sympathetic. “Hey, where are these from again?” 

“Matsushima,” Nishinoya answers. “But the vendor here didn’t get the taste right.”

Ever the conversational one, Daichi asks, “Have you been there before?” 

Something flickers over Nishinoya’s expression but before Asahi can identify what it is, he says, “It was my hometown.” His tone is heavy with wistfulness.

“I’ve heard of it,” says Daichi though there’s a trace of hesitation in the way he speaks. “Lovely place.” 

The smile Nishinoya wears in response doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Suddenly, Asahi feels like eating the oyster for Nishinoya’s sake, even though he will break out in rashes later. But before he can take a bite, Daichi finishes it off for him. Asahi’s shoulder slumps slightly but there’s a tiny flutter of relief in the back of his mind.

* * *

On the train ride back to Sendai, Nishinoya doesn’t seem like his usual energetic and boisterous self. There’s an aura of subdued silence about him that not even Ryu can coax him out of. Asahi watches him, discreetly, and finds himself wondering what’s going on in his mind. 

Is Nishinoya thinking about Matsuhima? Asahi recalls the look on Nishinoya’s face at the mention of his hometown; it’s almost similar to the one he’s wearing now although to a lesser extent. A desire to know the reason nags at Asahi but he shoves it down. Besides, it’s not like Nishinoya would tell him, since it may be a touchy subject, and even if he did Asahi would have to focus really hard to understand everything with his terrible Japanese and all.

Instead of worrying too much, Asahi forces himself to take in the details around him and describe them mentally to keep his mind occupied.

The train rumbles over the tracks, providing background noise in the otherwise silent carriage. Squares of sunlight pool in from the windows but they occasionally dim with the passage of clouds. Beside him, Daichi’s head is ducked, his eyes closed; he must’ve nodded off earlier. Across the both of them are Ryu and Nishinoya and only one of them is awake while the other is drooling in his sleep. 

Nishinoya sits with his legs drawn up, hugging his knees to his body. His chin rests between his knees, mouth slightly downturned and eyes dull in thought. His hair is styled back in its usual way, swept upwards except for the blond tuft that lies on his forehead. 

Asahi almost misses the sight of him with his hair down; it made him look less intimidating and … kind of cute. 

An alarm goes off in Asahi’s head at the thought—where did _that_ come from? He glances around furtively, face red, as though someone heard him think of Nishinoya as cute. Shaking his head, he forces his gaze back to his fidgeting hands and sets his mind elsewhere. Anywhere, except for Nishinoya. 

When they reach their stop, Asahi takes extra care to keep his distance. It works because the group is too exhausted from their mission last night to notice him lagging behind them. It works right until they reach the Institute, greet everyone and go to their rooms. 

Asahi walks behind Nishinoya as they make their way back to their rooms. But just before they go their separate ways, Nishinoya spins on his heel and faces Asahi. He has that intense gaze again, the one where he’s either thinking very hard about what to say to you or if it’s a good idea to gut you with his weapons. Asahi does his best not to squirm or take tiny steps backwards to his room.

“Asahi-san,” Nishinoya says. This is the first time he’s addressed Asahi directly though Asahi wishes he could say it less sharply because it makes him feel like he’s in trouble. 

“Y-yes?” Asahi’s nape prickles with nervousness. 

Nishinoya sets his bags down and takes a moment to compose himself. “I didn’t get to thank you for yesterday. For showing me your moves.” He mimics Asahi’s punches and kicks to get the message across because Asahi has this kind of blank look on his face.

It takes about two seconds too long for Asahi to understand him. “Is that so?” he mumbles and almost smacks himself at how indifferent his response sounds. “It’s alright.” 

Nishinoya frowns but not because of him. “Please let me make it up to you.” 

Heat rises to Asahi’s cheeks. “Ah, that’s okay,” he answers by way of declining. 

“Please?” At this point, Asahi gives up on digging his heels in as the fierce glint of determination in Nishinoya’s eyes tell him he’s fighting a losing battle. When he nods, Nishinoya breaks into a huge grin. 

Something warm and tingly spreads from under Asahi’s chest. His cheeks grow hotter. “B-but … next time?” he asks. “I’m busy now.” His explanation doesn’t sum up his situation; actually, he’s embarrassed and freaked out and maybe a little flattered at how insistent Nishinoya is. 

Nodding, Nishinoya picks his bags up from the floor. “Great. Just tell me when you’re free!” He turns around but stops for a heartbeat. Then a surprisingly shy glance is directed at Asahi over his shoulder. “Your hair is nice too. It makes you look really cool.” With that, he slides his _fusuma_ open, enters his room and slides it back shut with his foot.

Asahi stands there, shocked, with his cheeks flushed, his lips parted and his heart racing faster than it has ever been at anyone’s comment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Asahi puts the earbuds in his pockets carefully and hopes they don’t get twisted up again. Nishinoya frowns but stays quiet. They linger behind their peers in front, not keeping up but not falling behind either. After a few moments of this, Nishinoya’s head perks up like a hound on the hunt. Startled, Asahi scans around for any signs of imminent danger when a hand grips his arm. He barely has time to utter a noise when Nishinoya drags him to an alley. For someone of his size, he’s strong. 
> 
> Asahi is too alarmed to resist. “W-what are you doing?” he splutters when they round a corner and end up on another street. “Ni—Noya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo i meant to have this chapter out by asanoya day (4th of march) but writer's block came to say hello. anyway, i've written like several different versions of these, which were all unsatisfactory, but now that i've completed the final version i feel like a winner.
> 
> anyway without further ado, lets get on with this!

Asahi isn’t certain at what point did things become different but now his and Nishinoya’s interactions are no longer awkward. He didn’t have to mumble a greeting and hurry away and Nishinoya didn’t give tight-lipped smiles and curt replies. Recently, Asahi sees Nishinoya in more places more often. Though it’s nice that one more person is warming up to him in this Institute a part of him is hesitant and doubtful of Nishinoya’s motives. 

After all, he wasn’t friendly to Asahi the first time he came here. In fact, he was kind of standoffish and a little rude that it made Asahi feel like it was a mistake coming here. The first week was hard on Asahi. He didn't want to make a big deal about it to Daichi but he did spend sleepless nights staring at the ceiling and wondering if he should regret ever agreeing to come here with his parabatai.

It’s not that he kept his feelings bottled up though; he did talk to Megumi, the only person other than Daichi who understands him. Where Daichi would tell him to grit his teeth through it because what he feels now is temporary, Megumi listens and sympathizes with him. It’s one of the things he loves about her. 

The thought of Megumi brings a fresh wave of homesickness pangs. He almost considers calling her up but he doesn’t want her to think he’s getting too dependent on her. Pulling himself into a sitting position, he glances out the window. Afternoon light pours into his room. He really ought to do something today since he’s done nothing next to studying Japanese and taking naps. 

He’s just gotten out of bed when there’s a knock on the door. For a second he wonders if it’s Nishinoya and the thought makes his palms sweat. Fixing his hair into a loose bun, he pads over to the fusuma and slides it open.

The sight of Suga standing outside with his usual good-natured smile puts Asahi at ease but there’s a slight twinge somewhere in his chest. “ **Hi, Asahi!** ” Suga waves. 

Out of everyone Asahi has met here, he likes Suga the best. Something about his gentle features doesn’t make Asahi half as nervous as he is around the others. He remembers the first time when he met Suga he was really working himself up into anxiety thinking about what to say in Japanese when Suga greets him and Daichi in perfect English. Asahi had been awfully relieved but he had to remind himself not everyone at the Institute will be as fluent as Suga is and that he still has to work on his Japanese. 

“ **Hello Suga. It’s great to see you** ,” Asahi replies out of habit though it really is great to see him. 

“ **I hope I’m not bothering you right now** ,” says Suga with an apologetic laugh. When Asahi tells him he isn’t, he appears pleasantly surprised. “Ah, really? That’s great. Do you mind if I come in?” he asks 

“Sorry, if my room doesn't look neat,” Asahi mumbles as he bends down to move a jacket that’s been left in a heap on the floor. “I — **I didn’t expect anyone to visit**.” Even though it should be alright to slip back into English around Suga, it doesn't stop him from feeling guilty, ashamed even, to be unable to express himself properly in Japanese. 

“ **Oh, this is nothing**.” Suga waves his hand dismissively. He waits till Asahi sits at the low round table by the window before joining him. In the afternoon sunlight, his Marks appear stark against the pale skin of his arms. “Anyway, how are things going?”

“Hm?” 

“ **Is everything okay?** ” 

Asahi always hated being asked this question. “Yes,” responds Asahi as his gaze lifts from Suga’s to the space in between his eyebrows. “I’m doing alright.”

Suga nods but catches his lower lip in between his teeth. Beneath the placid expression of his, Asahi can sense his concern. Well, it might have been his job to ensure that everyone’s getting adjusted but since Daichi never mentioned impromptu visits like these, then Asahi figures there must be a good reason why he’s here. 

“ **How are things** ,” he begins carefully, “ **with the boy living across you?** ” 

“ **Huh?** ” 

Amusement flashes across Suga’s features. “Your neighbor, Nishinoya,” he clarifies with a laugh, causing Asahi’s face to flare up with heat. “ **Has he been nice to you?** ” 

“ **Uh** ,” Asahi replies with an uncertain tone while doing some vague gesture with his hand. His cheeks grow hotter as he wracks his brain trying to find a way to explain. “He’s nicer now. Nicer than before. When he was … less nice,” he rambles when the urge to smack himself in the face causes his hands to twitch. 

Fortunately, Suga doesn’t seem to notice but his features soften with a faraway look. “That’s good,” he whispers so softly that Asahi is certain he imagined it. “ **Don’t let him scare you** ,” he says audibly now, looking serious.

 _Too late_ , Asahi thinks as his mind recalls the moments he’s caught Nishinoya watching him with that unnerving dark amber gaze. He resists the urge to shudder at those memories. 

A delicate noise that sounds suspiciously like a snort escapes from Suga. “ **Nishinoya is like … a small dog.** ” At his analogy, Asahi raises his eyebrows though he agrees to an extent. “ **Like a Pomeranian** ,” he says. 

Asahi imagines a tiny and fluffy dog with Nishinoya’s face; his lips twitch. “ **Ah. A Pomeranian sounds like a very accurate comparison.** ” He struggles to keep his voice even.

“ **Yes. They are very noisy and energetic and active, like Nishinoya.** ”

“ **Has he always been like that?** ”

“ **Like what?”**

Asahi opens his mouth then closes with a frown. “ **Loud? Temperamental? And maybe a bit standoffish?** ” 

A brotherly fondness glitters in Suga’s eyes. “ **Yeah, he’s like that but I don’t know what standoffish means. But if you mean that is like the way he treated you, then yes, he can be like that at new people** ,” he adds, chuckling. “ **Sorry, I didn’t — haven’t known him for a long time so I don’t know if he’s always like this. But he’ll get along with you, I’m sure**.” 

Before Asahi can form a thought about his statement, Suga changes the topic. “ **Anyway, I’m not here to talk about Nishinoya** ,” he admits. He takes a moment to shift the cushion under him then continues speaking. “ **I was wondering if you would like to hang out with us tonight**.” 

“ **Who's us?** ” 

“ **Me** ,” answers Suga, “ **Kiyoko-chan and Saeko. I’ve asked Daichi and he’s coming too**.”

Something about his tone gives Asahi the impression he isn’t telling him everything so Asahi prompts, “ **Is that everyone?** ” 

Suga hesitates. “ **Ryu and Noya might come with us but that depends. They’re having an assessment today with their tutor**.” 

“ **Oh** ,” is all Asahi can say. It’s not that he doesn’t want to join everyone but he doesn’t generally do too well in large groups. Three is already a crowd for him but Suga’s named six people so one can only imagine how much he’s thinking about this already. The knowledge of being observed for his reaction puts tension on his decision-making capabilities. He already knows what he’ll say even though he doubts he’d be able to integrate with everyone tonight. “ **Sounds great. When are we going?** ” 

He only feels worse when Suga grins at him, delighted by his answer. “ **We’ll meet each other in the parlor at eight**.”

* * *

Despite telling himself that there’s no pressure to fit in or impress anyone, Asahi worries he’ll be left out when everyone piles out of Saeko’s van. He’s briefly reassured he won’t be the lonely one when Daichi gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze. The feeling doesn’t last because as soon as everyone starts walking down the street, Asahi finds himself at the back of the group. 

Unable to squeeze into any of the conversations happening ahead of him, Asahi contents himself with taking in the night scene of the area. He’s not certain where exactly they are but judging from the neon-lit shops, laughing people and hanging advertisements he guesses they’re in the downtown area.

Though not the part that’s frequented by mundanes because a small group of vampires passes them by, smelling faintly of blood. 

Shivering involuntarily, he shoves his hands into his jacket’s pockets. Ahead of him, Ryu is trying to chat to Kiyoko. He’s got this glazed-eyed, fervent look about him as he babbles to the girl; Asahi suspects he’s got a huge crush on her since forever. In front of them, Suga and Saeko is laughing at something Daichi said. A slight jealousy pinches Asahi, watching his best friend getting so easily along with them. He sighs and rubs his thumbs over his knuckles when he is aware something is amiss.

He cranes his neck, frowning, when someone taps his shoulder. Surprised, he jumps back from the contact only to find Nishinoya next to him. “It’s just me,” he says though his facial muscles twitch. 

Red-faced, Asahi makes a noise of acknowledgement and hastily averts his gaze. Confusion knits his brows together as he wonders how Nishinoya had slipped behind unnoticed. After all, he has a huge presence and so him disappearing should’ve been easily detected. Carefully, Asahi looks sideways. 

He can’t help staring at how tinier than usual Nishinoya looks tonight. He’s wearing an oversized hoodie and tight jeans, which gives him the appearance of birdlike legs. His sleeves fall just above his knuckles, exposing his slim-fingered hands. Out of nowhere, fierce surge of protectiveness rises in Asahi, making him want to scoop Nishinoya up in his arms even though Nishinoya’s perfectly capable of taking on opponents larger than him. 

The memory of Nishinoya’s eyes flashing like his daggers as he tore demons apart like paper resurfaces in Asahi’s mind. It’s enough for him to dismiss all urges to protect Nishinoya.

As if sensing his train of thought, Nishinoya says, “Asahi-san, do I scare you?”

Caught off-guard by the question, it takes a few moments for Asahi to regain his composure to answer. “Why are you asking?” The intensity of Nishinoya’s gaze pierces through Asahi. He’s been trying to figure what it is about it that spooks him so much but he can never come to a solid conclusion. 

Nishinoya shrugs, opening his mouth then closes it with a frown. “Nothing,” he mumbles, looking to the ground and shoving his hands into his pockets. “Forget I asked anything.” Guilt wrings at Asahi but before he can come up with an answer for him, Saeko announces that they’re here. The izakaya is located on the ground floor of the building they’ve just come to a stop in front of. 

Now, Asahi has visited a few restaurants in Melbourne that are styled to resemble their Japanese counterparts but here he’s realized they seem like knock-off versions of the real deal. Two short standing paper lanterns flank either side of the entrance with bright red shop curtains emblazoned with the izakaya’s name hanging over it. A bar stretches along the length of the room at one end while the rest of the space is taken up by tatami mats and low tables. A few paintings of landscapes decorate the walls.

The patrons here are all of Downworlder origin. The one closest to the entrance are a trio of kappas, feasting happily on cucumbers. Dog-headed humans occupy the bar with drinks in their hands and their tails swishing behind the. A flock of dark-winged men watch them from the back corner.

The waiter leads their group to the table next to a group of ladies dressed in kimonos. The air near them is cold, colder than it is outside, like they’re radiating off an inhuman chill 

“Brr,” Daichi shudders and one of those ladies shoots him a frosty glare. 

“Ah, keep your jackets on,” is all Saeko tells them before she gives the ladies an apology. They huff and turn their noses up, whispering behind their sleeves. 

The waiter hands them each menus before hurrying off. Unfortunately, Asahi can’t read that well so most of the items names are lost on him. A bead of sweat forms on his brow as he flips through it, having an internal dilemma. Sensing his dismay, Daichi nudges him gently and mouths, “ **Don’t worry**.” It’s hard not to when Saeko tells everyone to order what they’d like. 

Daichi orders on his behalf when the waiter returns to serve complimentary appetizers. After the waiter takes their orders, a conversation begins at the table. Asahi keeps out of it since he can’t find a lull in it to slip in or think of anything brilliant to say. As a result, he alternates between sampling the appetizers, and smiling and nodding along to make it look like he’s listening.

When the food comes, he occupies himself with eating while the rest maintain the ongoing chatter in between bites of their food. As usual, nobody tries to bring him into the discussion which works for him but makes him feel kind of excluded. 

“Noya, you’re not having a beer.” Suga’s mildly exasperated tone catches Asahi’s attention. He raises his head to see a pouting Nishinoya, resting his chin on the table while clutching the beverages menu in a hand. 

“You’re right.” Everyone stares at him in surprise to see him bending to another’s will. Nishinoya places the menu back on the table and sits up straight. The moment a crooked grin tugs at his lips, Asahi senses he has something up his sleeve. “Make that two beers!” He tells the waiter, who narrows his eyes at him doubtfully. 

Suga sighs loudly while the rest chuckle while shaking their heads. Only Saeko is cheering for him, giving him an approving smile. Asahi doesn’t know how to feel about that. Fortunately, no alcoholic drinks appear at the table.

* * *

Once they’ve all eaten and paid for the bill, they wander around the shops in the area. Daichi drifts from Asahi’s side to Suga’s; upon noticing this, Asahi fights back the pang of envy. He pats his pockets for his phone and earbuds; no one’s talking to him anyway and they probably wouldn’t so there’d be no harm in listening to music while walking. As he untangles his earbuds’ wire with annoyance, he becomes aware of a presence next to him. He doesn’t need to look up to see who it is, after all the person radiates an unmistakable aura. 

“Hello again.” Nishinoya’s lips quirk upwards in a greeting before staying in position when his eyes drift to Asahi fiddling with the earbuds. “Need any help?” 

Asahi feels his ears burning up when he’s aware of Nishinoya staring at him. “I’m good.” It’s anything but his statement as the wire’s gets even more bunched up and twisted, showing no signs of ever untangling. He hears a faint noise from Nishinoya that sounds like a laugh and wishes to crawl into a hole and disappear. 

Saying something Asahi guesses as “Let me help,” Nishinoya plucks the earbuds out of his hands. Watching the way his slim fingers work deftly on the wire piques Asahi’s interest. In less than two seconds, he has the wire straightened out, earbuds dangling past his hand. “Here you go.” 

Asahi stares at the earbuds. “Ah, um, thank you.” 

“No problem!” 

Suddenly, the idea of listening to music while walking seems rude now that there’s someone whom Asahi thinks might want to talk to him. Not that he has any hard feelings about that but frankly he didn’t expect Nishinoya, out of all people, since he’s always with his parabatai, Ryu. Suga, maybe, or Daichi, most likely, but they’ve probably forgotten he existed now that they’re all chummy with each other tonight. Not Nishinoya. Definitely not Nishinoya.

“What’s wrong?” Concern in Nishinoya’s tone snaps him out his thoughts. His forehead is creased slightly as he fixes his gaze on Asahi’s expression. 

“Nothing.” Asahi puts the earbuds in his pockets carefully and hopes they don’t get twisted up again. Nishinoya frowns but stays quiet. They linger behind their peers in front, not keeping up but not falling behind either. After a few moments of this, Nishinoya’s head perks up like a hound on the hunt. Startled, Asahi scans around for any signs of imminent danger when a hand grips his arm. He barely has time to utter a noise when Nishinoya drags him to an alley. For someone of his size, he’s strong. 

Asahi is too alarmed to resist. “W-what are you doing?” he splutters when they round a corner and end up on another street. “Ni—Noya?” 

Nishinoya lets go of him, eyes flashing in a way that makes Asahi both thrilled and afraid. He says something that’s too fast for Asahi to understand before adding, “Isn’t that right?” He nudges Asahi’s side too hard with his bony elbow, grinning.

 Not wanting to look stupid, Asahi agrees. He unconsciously puts an inch of space between them. Glancing back at the alley where they emerged from, a slight tremor of worry and nervousness runs through him. He half-expects someone to come and get them but Nishinoya’s tugging on his sleeve. 

“I know a cool place,” he says, pointing his thumb down the street. “We can hang out there.”

Asahi’s eyebrows arch before furrowing. “Is that okay?” 

A snort comes out of Nishinoya as he waves his hand airily. “Of course it is. Come on.” Asahi gets the feeling there’d be no use of arguing so he follows. 

Here, the streets aren’t any less crowded but there are more people around their age hanging around here. Cafes mushroom here and there, sandwiched in between stores selling all kinds of stuff from street fashion to knick-knacks and vintage items. There’s even an ice-cream parlor but Asahi spots a sandwich board by its entrance advertising strange flavors that probably aren’t palatable for humans. Along the laneways there are colorful and interesting-looking murals decorating the walls. 

Asahi tries to recall whether there’s any place in Melbourne that’s similar to this but that only brings up a wave of homesickness. 

“There’s an arcade over there.” Nishinoya points at one of the units which is the source of a mix of pop music and video game sounds are coming from. Asahi’s steps falter. He doesn’t play much video games and the times he did play often result him in losing terribly. He also doesn’t like people watching over his shoulder and witnessing his failures too. 

His mouth opens to ask, “Can we go someplace else?” but when he meets Nishinoya’s gaze, he finds himself unable to say the words. Instead, he says, “Do you want to go?” 

Nishinoya’s eyes round as if he hadn’t expected Asahi to ask that. Then, his cheeks redden and he purses his lips. “Well, yes. But we can go somewhere else if you don’t want to,” he adds hastily. 

The logical thing to do would be to suggest some other place but since Asahi has no idea what other places they can hang out in, he shakes his head. “The arcade sounds good,” he says and he detachedly wonders if he’ll regret it at the end of the night.

Watching Nishinoya’s expression brighten up causes Asahi’s lips to lift at the corners too. “Alright, let’s go!” He pumps his fist in the air and hurries to the arcade, only pausing at its entrance to see if Asahi is following. 

They find the machine which exchanges money for tokens by the crane games. Asahi takes a few bills from his wallet but Nishinoya protests, pushing his hand away. So Asahi lets him but his eyes almost bug out when he sees the amount Nishinoya inserts into the machine.

“Here we go!” Nishinoya rattles the plastic container full of tokens with a satisfied expression. “Which one do you want to try?” he asks, gesturing expansively at the games around them. Asahi cringes when he nearly hits a Downworlder child, who glares daggers at him out of his single eye. 

Asahi scans the area. His chest is tight with the internal conflict of pushing the choices back to Nishinoya and choosing a game that he thinks Nishinoya would like. He bites his lower lip, turning his head here and there before he selects on the basketball shooter game. Furtively he looks back to Nishinoya and is relieved to see that there are no signs of disagreement on his face. 

“I’ve never played basketball,” says Nishinoya after inserting the correct amount of tokens for him and Asahi. “What about you?” 

“Sometimes,” Asahi mumbles as a basketball rolls towards him.

“No wonder you’re so tall.” Asahi turns to Nishinoya, uncertain of what to make of the comment but Nishinoya is already in the game. He takes on a sharp and clear-eyed, throwing the basketballs to the hoop as they roll towards him. He misses a few shots but it’s fascinating to see how intensely focused he is on the game. Then Asahi remembers he’s supposed to play too and he gets to shooting. He doesn’t catch the smirk of amusement Nishinoya shoots his way. 

“I’m not tall because of basketball.”

“That so?” 

“It’s because of my **genes**.” Asahi isn’t sure what the correct word is but since Japanese has plenty of loan words, he hopes what he’s saying will be understood. 

However, Nishinoya gives him a puzzled frown. “Jeans? Like denim?” he asks. 

“Ah, no. Not that.” Asahi scratches his temple. “It’s … It’s because of my blood … —” He stops, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. He goes back to shooting while Nishinoya watches on for a few moments before returning to his game. Only the sounds of basketballs landing noisily or hitting the hoops fill the pause. Somehow, he feels that Nishinoya’s silence is due to him laughing inwardly at how inarticulate he is.

 _Born with a Japanese name yet you can’t even speak the language_ , scoffs a derisive voice in the back of his mind. His nails dig into the basketball before he throws it. His shot goes wide, hitting the scoreboard instead of going through the hoop. _How useless_.

Nishinoya faces him, turning so fast Asahi fears he heard Asahi’s thoughts. And maybe he has, since he’s has such an intense gaze that it makes Asahi feel like he’s been scolded for pitying himself. The arcade’s lights throw wild patterns of colors on him and but his eyes appear more lambent than usual. “You’re studying Japanese, right?” When Asahi nods assent, a sudden shy look overcomes his features. “If you want, I can teach you.”

Surprised by Nishinoya’s change in expression, it takes Asahi a few moments to register and process his offer. “You — I-is that … okay?” he falters because he doubts he’s heard Nishinoya right.

“Of course!”

* * *

The world around Asahi seems to fade when a smile brightens up Nishinoya’s features, like a flash of lightning against the night sky. Detachedly, Asahi wonders if Nishinoya’s smile has made anyone feel what he’s feeling now: warm and fuzzy on the inside, with a hint of exhilaration running in his veins.

Perhaps it’s weird or selfish but he wishes he’s the only one who feels that way. 

Nishinoya acknowledges that he was being unreasonable when he dragged Asahi away from the others. He will accept the earful from the Tanaka siblings later for not informing them and for ignoring their calls, all seven of them. But he didn’t find himself enjoying tonight as much as he should be.

Ryu was too busy trying to woo Kiyoko, forgetting his parabatai existed, and Saeko and Suga were still fawning over Daichi. He didn’t have anyone to laugh or joke around with, he realized when they were walking to the izakaya. But when he noticed Asahi straying a little behind from the rest, looking like a thoughtful yet lonely puppy, he though _Hey, I do have someone to_ talk to _after all_.

A week was a generous amount of time to get used to someone, Nishinoya believed, so when his and Asahi’s interactions became more than just tight-lipped smiles and awkward greetings he was convinced they were well-acquainted with each other. Apparently that wasn’t the case because he noticed that when he tried to talk to Asahi, there was a glimmer of unease and apprehension in his gaze.

Usually he didn’t give two damns about anyone not being uncomfortable around him—what was there to be uncomfortable about?—but he was bummed out when he realized it. Of course, he didn’t want to let it get to him but when everyone was eating he had an idea. He wouldn’t call it a brilliant one but it _was_ something. 

So when everyone was too busy with one another to notice, he carried out his plan. It was a good thing Asahi went along with it, allowing Nishinoya to lead him away with little resistance. 

Then he suggested going to the arcade because that’s where guys like their age liked to hang out, right? What kind of guy wouldn’t love playing a couple of rounds of video games? Nishinoya was secure in the assumption that Asahi would enjoy himself. 

He found out later that his guess wasn’t exactly true.

“I don’t really play arcade games,” confesses Asahi when they leave the whack-a-mole game. 

Nishinoya stops in his tracks then spins on his heel to face Asahi. “You don’t?” His voice is high with bewilderment. “Really?” Asahi nods, red-faced as he averts his gaze elsewhere, and something twists in Nishinoya’s chest. “Well, why didn’t you say so?” He’s not angry but shocked; no wonder Asahi had redirected his question back to him earlier. He hadn’t meant to make his tone sharp but Asahi flinches.

A mix of frustration and guilt snaps at Nishinoya; he knows that Asahi was only being accommodating to him, which he appreciates, but he’s also somewhat annoyed Asahi didn’t dig his heels in or try to suggest someplace else. The token container is suddenly heavier in his hand. 

“It’s alright,” he says in a calmer tone, relieved when Asahi looks at him again. “We can try all the other games and see which one you like,” he suggests, hoping he sounds encouraging instead of forceful. “But if you don’t want to, we can go home.” 

Asahi stares at him for a moment too long, which he suspects that parts of his sentence are lost on him, but then he points at one of the machines and Nishinoya almost smiles. 

They start from the back of the arcade and work their way towards the front. Nishinoya learns that Asahi avoids the games where more people are playing at. He prefers watching, which doesn’t sound fun, but Nishinoya can’t resist showing off when he plays. He’ll admit he gets an endorphin kick when he glances over his shoulder to see Asahi looking amazed or giving him a thumbs up every time he beats the other player or the CPU. 

What Asahi _is_ interested in, out of every game in the arcade, is the crane games. 

Nishinoya stares distastefully at one of them, observing a couple attempt to grab a huge stuffed fish toy only for it to slip out of the crane. He imagines all the precious tokens being swallowed up by the machine just for a single prize and shudders. They could be spending their tokens elsewhere and get tickets which can be exchanged for other prizes at the counter. He almost wants to say no but one look at Asahi’s fascinated expression and his resolve evaporates.

 _Since he’s been nice enough to let me play everything, this is the least I can do for Asahi-san_ , he thinks. 

“So, which one?” asks Nishinoya when the couple leaves. There are several of these cranes lined up, each having different themes of prizes. Asahi takes a couple of seconds to look at each one, weighing the worth of their prizes before he goes for the one filled with plushies. Nishinoya holds out the container for Asahi but then his hand stops.

“What’s wrong?” Nishinoya asks, frowning at Asahi with concern. 

Asahi’s mouth is a thin line on his face. “C-child—” he struggles. 

It takes a moment to figure out what he’s trying to say. “It’s not childish.” Nishinoya sighs and places the tokens on the console. Then, he holds Asahi by the arm and gently pulls him closer to the machine. There’s a mirrored panel at the back of the machine and through the gaps between the stuffed toys, parts of their reflections are visible.

Nishinoya scoops up a couple of tokens, takes Asahi’s hand and presses it into his open palm. “Please do your best,” he says in the most supportive tone he can muster, throwing in a smile for the sake of it. 

Asahi’s eyes widen momentarily before glinting with determination. “Right, okay,” he mumbles under his breath and inserts the tokens. Nishinoya can’t resist the excitement that causes him to bounce on the balls of his feet. “Here goes nothing.”

Pressing his hands on against the glass, Nishinoya watches eagerly as the crane jolts to life. “Which one are you going to pick?” he asks, glancing over his shoulder. “You should pick the biggest one since it’ll be easier to move it to the hole,” he adds, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Which one do you want?” 

Once again, Nishinoya finds himself taken aback by Asahi. He stares at Asahi with his lips slightly parted, only looking away hastily when Asahi raises his head. Nishinoya’s mouth goes dry and he’s aware of his nape growing hotter as milliseconds pass. The plushies in the machine are cute, which makes it difficult for him to choose. His eyes rake over the them once more before he selects one at random. “That one,” he says, pointing at a round black-colored bird plushie.

The crane cranks into motion, jerking slightly as it approaches the bird. Nishinoya’s muscles tense with anticipation as the crane drops, grabbing the plushie in its claws. He lets out a premature noise of delight before it changes into a whine of disappointment when the bird slips out of grasp. It lands on the edge of the hole, teetering for half a moment before rolling into it.

A loud whoop is expelled from Nishinoya’s lungs. Asahi’s grinning as he bends down to collect the bird plushie. “Asahi-san, you’re so cool! Thank you so much!” exclaims Nishinoya as Asahi hands him the plushie. “Ah, it’s so soft and squishy,” he babbles, squeezing it in a hug. “So fucking cute!” 

Then he remembers who won it before he holds it out shyly. Asahi glances at it and does a double take. “Do you want to hold it?” Nishinoya asks before Asahi can say anything. 

Asahi hesitates before taking it and carries it in his arms as if it were a delicate object. An awkward but amused smile sits on his features. Perhaps it was because he shared the bird with Asahi or the sight of seeing him like this but Nishinoya feels giddy and can’t stop the elated rush in his veins. 

Asahi lifts the plushie at eye level before looking at Nishinoya. “What is its name?” he asks, returning it to Nishinoya.

Regarding it thoughtfully, Nishinoya hums under his breath. “Azunishi,” he decides, glancing at Asahi for approval. 

Asahi stares at him. “ _Azunishi_ ,” he echoes haltingly. “W-why?” His voice wobbles. 

Nishinoya tucks the Azunishi under his arm, frowning with an air of mock seriousness. “It’s my name and your name combined,” he explains. “Azumane’s Azu and Nishinoya’s Nishi together — Hey, I think it’s _brilliant_!” He nudges Asahi’s shin with his foot when stifled laughs escapes Asahi; he gets the feeling that Asahi probably isn’t listening, or understanding him, but whatever.

“Azunishi is … nice.”

“Damn right it is.” Nishinoya sticks out his tongue at Asahi, which makes him crack up. That’s when he realizes it’s the first time he hears Asahi laugh. It’s contagious too because he hears himself joining in.

And then the funniest thing happens. The sounds of the arcade melt away until all Nishinoya’s ears are filled with is the sound of Asahi. It’s a deep and rich sound that snatches his breath away. A part of him doesn’t want this to end, this point in time where he witnesses Asahi releasing this wonderfully uninhibited noise, eyes crinkled at the sides and features more carefree than Nishinoya has ever seen. 

“That was fun.” 

Nishinoya blinks. “Huh?”

The world comes rushing back, too quickly and too loudly, as if someone’s switched on the radio but it’s set to the highest volume. It takes him a couple of seconds to regain his bearings, to remember that time won’t stop for him to enjoy the little things.

“Oh, yeah,” responds Nishinoya, scuffing the floor with the tip of his sneaker. “I had fun too.” He means it, even though they had a slightly unfavorable start to their escape from the others. He opens his mouth to add something because his previous statement sounds inadequate when Asahi jumps.

“Excuse me,” he mumbles, reaching into his pocket and fishes his phone. He squints at the screen before his eyes widen. Then he’s walking away from Nishinoya as he answers the call. “ **Yeah? I’m okay. No, we didn’t get kidnapped …** ” His voice melts into the cacophony of arcade noises and game music as the distance between them increases.

Nishinoya doesn’t have to wait for him to return to know that he’ll be in hot water for disappearing with Asahi. Yet the future doesn’t bother him. After all, the fun he had tonight will be so worth the trouble he’ll be in for.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nishinoya can tell right away Asahi is hardworking and diligent. Scattered here and there on the pages are sticky notes that are written carefully in ink. For the exercises in the book, the answers are written in pencil—there are even corrections next to the answers where he’s gotten them wrong. On closer inspection to the content of the book, Nishinoya realizes Asahi isn’t beginner as he thought he’d be; in fact, the Japanese level indicated on the cover says ‘Intermediate.’

After a day’s full of hard work, Nishinoya couldn’t be gladder when he lays stomach-down on his futon with his limbs spread out like a starfish. His arms and legs are sorer than when Mrs Tanaka made everyone clean up the Institute for Asahi and Daichi’s arrival. Releasing a weary sigh, he feels around for his pillow but his hand grabs something else. 

With a frown, he raises his head when a soft smile curls his lips. Pulling Azunishi towards him, he rolls onto his back and cuddles the plushie. 

Last night Saeko hadn’t been as angry as he had expected though she did express how worried she was when she noticed him and Asahi were missing. Unlike her mother, when Saeko was angry at someone her voice takes on a very calm tone that reminds Nishinoya of thin ice. He did his best not to squirm but he couldn’t meet her eyes when she asked him about how things went at the arcade after she was done chiding him. 

“It was nice,” he mumbled, which was something he didn’t do very often. 

“Nice enough for you to ignore mine and Ryu’s calls, huh?” Nishinoya shrunk under her sharp gaze before she let him off with the punishment of doing everyone’s chores the next day.

But if Nishinoya had to be completely honest, he didn’t mind the punishment itself. The first thing he did mind the entire day was how everything didn’t go his way. The head of the broom he used to sweep the courtyard kept falling off. The water supply to the hose was cut off. The cleaning agents for the Institute’s cars were misplaced in the gardening supplies closet. The list goes on; Nishinoya suspects Saeko might’ve told someone purposely make his punishment harder for him. Which is totally understandable. 

The other thing he minded was how he didn’t really have a chance to talk to anyone today, like having a sit-down kind of conversation. Well, there was breakfast and lunch but as usual, he had his voracious appetite to take care of. Not that he’s the type who gets lonely easily but he did feel lonely today. 

Turning his head to the side, he watches as the sun fades from his window, the sky outside deepening to twilight. His hair is still damp from the shower and he’s cold from just lying there in his underwear. Yet he isn’t inclined to move at all; his body is aching for rest and he’s willing to comply. His eyelids droop and he drifts off for what feels like a couple of minutes. 

A faint but insistent rapping noise stirs him awake. Blinking through the darkness of his room, he peeks up from his blanket cocoon at the general direction of the door. “What?” he calls out, not bothering to mask his groggy annoyance. “Who’s there?” 

There’s some shuffling from outside. “It’s Asahi,” replies a tentative voice. 

As if someone had given him a shock of electricity he sits up abruptly. Cool air hits his skin, raising goosebumps; he’s reminded that he’s not wearing anything other than his boxers. Face burning and panicking, he draws the blankets up to his chin and exclaims, “Ah, please don’t come in! I’m — I’m not decent.” 

Asahi remains silent from the other side of the door, probably puzzled or something. “O-oh is that so?” he calls back, sounding awkward. Nishinoya almost smacks his forehead though whether he’s embarrassed of himself or Asahi he isn’t sure. “By the way, it’s dinnertime,” Asahi adds. 

“Five minutes!” 

“Okay.” Nishinoya waits until Asahi’s light tread fades below the pulse roaring in his ears. Then he slumps with relief before catching himself with a frown. Since when did he care about nudity around other people? He can count the number of times he’s stripped around the others (the guys, obviously) seen them naked, and had never been fazed in the slightest bit. Perhaps it’s might’ve been Asahi’s meek nature that made his brain think ‘Please cover yourself up or he’ll faint if he sees you!’

Whatever the case, Nishinoya hurries to get dressed, pulling on a t-shirt and shorts before scurrying out his room. When he arrives downstairs at the dining room, the enticing smell of Chinese takeout food making his stomach grumble. 

Everyone except for the senior Tanakas (they prefer not to eat takeouts) are present. At the sight of Ryu waving him over with his mouth stuffed with roast pork, Nishinoya laughs and hurries to sit next to him. “How’d you survive today?” asks Ryu. 

Nishinoya picks up his chopsticks. “I didn’t.” He smiles dreamily at his plate of chicken chow mein, mouth watering. He tucks in after giving thanks to the meal, savoring the sweet and umami taste of the noodles. It tastes like a generous reward for his labor today.

“Well, you can thank your beloved parabatai,” teases Suga at one end of the table. “Without him, you’d have an easy day.” Ryu splutters explanations but Nishinoya’s too busy enjoying his food to care. 

Across the table, Daichi chuckles. “It’s a good thing the food’s put him in a good mood,” he points out.

“Yeah, I’ll kill you later or whatever,” Nishinoya promises while Ryu elbows him in the side. The chow mein is gone in minutes when a ringing noise pierces the air. He stops, hand outstretched towards a jug of water. The lighthearted atmosphere at the table evaporates into heaviness.

Kiyoko releases a sigh as she rises to her feet. “Distress call,” she explains to Asahi and Daichi before hurrying out the room.

“I sure hope it’s a prank,” says Ryu and everyone glances at him with varying degrees of agreement on their faces. “I really don’t wanna have to fight when I’ve just eaten.” Then he pops the last spoonful of his food into his mouth and chews. 

Saeko takes a thoughtful sip of her beer. “Hopefully it’s not too serious that everyone needs to go.” 

“Yeah but who’d volunteer?” Daichi voices everyone’s thoughts. A silence falls on the room as the faint voice of Kiyoko drifts inside from somewhere outside. Nishinoya helps himself to water, sipping as his gaze drifts around the tense expressions of his peers. 

Then it settles on the person directly across him. 

Tight-lipped, Asahi pushes a shrimp around his plate. His eyebrows are drawn together in what seems to be forming an expression that’s between apprehension and hopefulness.

Concern rouses within Nishinoya. He sifts through his brain for something to say, opening his mouth but the only voice that speaks is Kiyoko’s when she returns. “Some inexperienced warlock accidentally summoned a bunch of Raveners in the business district.” Though soft, her voice is grim. 

The Shadowhunters at the table shift, getting to their feet when Kiyoko adds, “They said there’s about ten to fifteen of them wreaking havoc so I think we won’t need everyone here to sweep the area.”

“Yeah, I’ll go with Kiyoko,” Suga offers, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Anyone—” 

Ryu’s hand shoots in the air. “I’m game!” 

“So am I.” Daichi’s firm voice joins in. 

Nishinoya moves to volunteer but Saeko cuts him off by saying, “Oh no, Yuu-chan. You’ve done plenty today.” When Nishinoya tries to argue, insisting that he’d be fine and won’t drop dead, Saeko gives him a sharp glare and he buckles under her will. She turns to Asahi who’s been avoiding everyone’s gaze up till now and says, “You too. You’re staying.” Asahi slouches in relief then catches himself, straightening up. 

A frown creases Nishinoya’s forehead. “What has he done?” he asks, not out of spite but confusion. He was certain that he’s the only one who was punished for last night. Although, it does explain why he hasn’t seen Asahi the whole day.

“Running errands for everyone.” 

It takes Nishinoya a moment to understand what she means. “So you sent him around the city, knowing he isn’t very familiar with it, to run errands,” he says slowly, his frown growing deeper. Something about the task rubs him the wrong way. It didn’t sound fair to punish Asahi like this, even if he did let Nishinoya drag him along without complaining. A mental image of an overwhelmed Asahi in the middle of a crowded street pops up in his mind. 

Saeko takes Nishinoya’s expression for bewilderment. She waves her hand airily. “Yeah, don’t be too jealous. Also, he wasn’t alone the whole time. I followed him in case he got lost,” she adds though it doesn’t sound reassuring. 

Nishinoya struggles to keep his tone even when he speaks. “ _Right_. I suppose that’s reasonable.” There’s a tight knot in his chest. He sits down and considers claiming Ryu’s hot and sour soup while the rest disappear to put on their gear. Stirring a spoon around the bowl, he forces himself not to pout as the rest announce they’d be on their way. What he wouldn’t give to lose himself in Shadowhunting. 

“Consider this as payback for ruining my day,” he tells Ryu, who does a double take after spotting him eating his soup. Ryu just sighs at him and mutters something under his breath while Nishinoya sends him off with a "Mizpah!"

As soon as he hears the front doors close, Nishinoya finds he’s lost his appetite. Exhaling loudly through his nostrils, he gets up to clear the dishes. The table rattles with a loud bump and Nishinoya realizes Asahi’s bumped his knees in the process of standing up. Then he mutters a hurried apology to no one in particular before helping Nishinoya out. Saeko polishes her beer peacefully as the two of them duck into the kitchen with all the dishes and utensils. 

“Thanks,” Nishinoya tells Asahi. “I know it’s not officially my duty to clean everything up now but it’s great to have someone help me around. After today, y’know?” He glances at Asahi who responds with a placid smile. It’s the sort of smile that Nishinoya associates with people trying to say ‘look, I don’t know what you just said but I’ll pretend to understand so it won’t be awkward.’

 Nishinoya’s mouth folds into a thin line but he keeps his thoughts to himself. 

The sound of running water from the faucet and the occasional clink of porcelain fills the silence between them. They make an efficient team, if Nishinoya will say so himself. Every time he sets the just-washed dish down Asahi’s hand swoops in to wipe it dry as quickly as possible. Somehow he finds comfort in the rhythm of the way they work. But all too soon the dishes and bowls have been washed and Asahi’s wiping the last one. The clink of the last dish being set on the rack sounds of finality. 

“Well done.” Nishinoya beams up at Asahi, who returns the smile with a milder version of his own. “Once again, thank you so much for helping me out.”

Asahi opens his mouth, frowns slightly then shakes his head. “It’s alright.” With an awkward nod of his head, he turns and leaves but not before he bumps his hip into the counter and curses in English. Nishinoya pretends not to have noticed for his sake, his back towards an embarrassed Asahi.

Once Asahi is out of earshot, he shakes his head with a lopsided grin.

* * *

Five minutes have passed since Nishinoya flipped through his notebook with the intention to study. To say that he’s done a little more than scanning through everything and collecting relevant information is a lie. With an annoyed sigh, he drops the notebook on his chest and props his hands under his head. 

Usually he’d be able to focus for about fifteen minutes but he’s unable to ignore the tight pressure in his chest. His parabatai rune itched as well, reminding him that Ryu is out there crushing Raveners while he’s stuck here. He needn’t worry about his parabatai since Ryu is capable but the fact that he’s in a potentially dangerous situation where anything can happen puts him in a restless state.

Unfortunately, nothing in his room serves as a worthy distraction. He’s read the entirety of his secret stash of mundane sports magazines. He’s sick of lifting his dumbbells. Also, Suga hasn’t returned his dart set. Releasing an exasperated noise, he stretches his limbs and rolls onto his tummy. Except he doesn’t go all the way because he ends up squashing something soft under his weight.

An alarmed squawk comes out of him as he hurriedly gets on knees and his heart constricts when he realizes it's Azunishi. Part of him feels stupid for being concerned over a stuffed toy he’s only had for nearly twenty-four hours. As silly as it sounds, it’s the nicest (and least dangerous) thing anyone’s ever gotten him. He can’t remember the last time he had something similar to this—perhaps in his childhood but his memories are too fuzzy. 

Cradling Azunishi protectively in his arms, he mutters an inaudible apology then hugs it. He’s glad Ryu isn’t here to witness him as that’d be embarrassing. But also because Shadowhunters weren’t supposed to get attached to things like these. Especially when they’re almost the age where the Law would consider them adults. 

Thinking about what he should and shouldn’t be causes Nishinoya’s nose to wrinkle. Suddenly his room becomes too stifling so he gets out. Bare-footed in the corridor, he tucks Azunishi under his arm and knocks on the door across his. 

He doesn’t know where Asahi is specifically but his room is a good place to start. 

Fortunately, he picks up signs of Asahi’s presence from the faint shuffling noise inside which turns into footsteps. Then the fusuma slides open by a gap. It’s almost amusing how he resembles a cartoon character: his eyebrows raised, cautious expression peering out from round the door and the rest of his body hidden from view. 

The corners of Nishinoya’s mouth curl up easily. “Hey, Asahi-san.”

“Nishinoya.” The tiny breath Asahi releases at the end sounds like relief. He slides his door wider, revealing more of himself. Nishinoya’s almost forgotten how tall he is so when Asahi draws himself up to full height, no slouching, he almost backs a step. He tries to ignore the fact that he’s eye-level with Asahi’s collarbones peeking over the neckline of his shirt. He cranes his head back so he’s looking at Asahi directly but he gets distracted by another detail.

Asahi’s hair. He’s been wearing it in a looser bun these days so Nishinoya’s gotten used to that. But this time, he has it in a loose ponytail that rests on his shoulder.

“What …” Asahi begins then tucks back a stray strand of hair from his face, “What are you doing here?”

Nishinoya gives a one-shouldered shrug. “Nothing.” His gaze slides past Asahi’s head to his room. He doesn’t see much other than drawn curtains over the window. “What about you? What are you doing?” he asks back. 

Asahi shakes his head. “Studying.” He notices where Nishinoya’s looking then flushes. “Want to come inside?” He moves aside to make space. Nishinoya hesitates; he doesn’t make it a habit to go into anyone’s room unless he’s very close with them, like Ryu for example. One time when Saeko asked him to help locate a misplaced file, Nishinoya felt like he was committing the worst kind of intrusion even though there wasn’t anything worth being embarrassed about witnessing in her room. 

 _But it’s just Asahi_ , a voice in Nishinoya’s head reasons. _It’s different from Saeko’s. It isn’t really proper to walk around in a girl’s room but Asahi isn’t, so I’ll be alright._  

At his hesitation, Asahi regards him curiously. “What’s wrong?” 

Nishinoya shakes his head, forcing a smile. “Forgive me for the interruption,” he says before entering. 

Like all the rooms in the Institute, the layout of Asahi’s room is similar to Nishinoya’s, except Asahi’s is like a mirrored image of his. Bathroom to the right instead of left, built-in wardrobe at the far corner of the same side. A low round table sits below the window across the room. The only thing different about Asahi’s room is its appearance. The most obvious detail is how neat his room is. The walls are bare of any decorations, nothing is strewn on the floor. The nightstand is empty except for a small lamp and a photograph Asahi brought from home. Even the bed (not a futon like Nishinoya’s but a low, platform one) is properly made. Everything is so orderly Nishinoya feels embarrassed thinking about the state of his room.

Music plays from a pair of speakers the size of a tennis ball. The song is in English but the angsty guitar riffs and vocals sound cool to Nishinoya. There’s a faint but clean smell in the room he can’t immediately identify but reminds him of a fresh breeze on a summer day. 

“Please.” Asahi gestures for him to have a seat. Nishinoya obliges, peering curiously at the stack of textbooks on Asahi’s table. Out of curiosity, he picks one up to read once he sets Azunishi at his left. Asahi moves to sit across him while he flips the pages. 

Nishinoya can tell right away Asahi is hardworking and diligent. Scattered here and there on the pages are sticky notes that are written carefully in ink. For the exercises in the book, the answers are written in pencil—there are even corrections next to the answers where he’s gotten them wrong. On closer inspection to the content of the book, Nishinoya realizes Asahi isn’t beginner as he thought he’d be; in fact, the Japanese level indicated on the cover says ‘Intermediate.’ 

He glances over the edge of the book, catching a tight-lipped Asahi, then back at the page he’s on. A tiny frown knits his brow. _That’s strange_ , he thinks as he goes back through the book once more. As he flips through it, speculation comes to mind. 

“Asahi-san,” he says after he places the book down. 

Asahi perks up. “Yes?” 

“Do you revise from these a lot?” Nishinoya gestures at the stack of books nearby. 

Asahi nods with a tiny laugh. His gaze falls away from Nishinoya’s to his clasped hands on the table. “During my free time,” he says, which explains why Nishinoya hardly sees him around in the Institute. “But I’m still not very good with Japanese.” 

A knot twists in Nishinoya’s chest. “Is it difficult?” The question escapes him before he can think. 

Asahi’s eyes widen. “It is … but it’s fun.” 

Nishinoya tries to put himself in Asahi’s shoes. For someone who was raised in a country where English is the primary language of communication Asahi might not have had a lot of opportunities to converse his mother tongue or not at all. Well, there’s Daichi but from Nishinoya’s observations, they use only English when speaking to each other. Judging from the level of Japanese he’s currently studying, he must’ve had a head start prior to his arrival here. Then again, studying from the book is one thing but using it was another. Asahi isn’t that great at speaking; his listening skills could use more practice too. 

Then it clicks. Why Asahi doesn’t talk much around others. Why he hardly joins conversations that happen around him. Why he speaks softly like he’s afraid people might hear any possible mistakes. The knot in Nishinoya’s chest twists even more. It must’ve been hard for Asahi, he thinks, not understanding everything that’s being said around him and struggling to express himself. 

 _And to think I was being a bitch to him for the wrong reasons_. 

“Noya?” The hesitant tone in Asahi’s voice nudges Nishinoya out of his thoughts. He blinks then looks up. A concerned Asahi stares back at him, tight-lipped and his head slightly cocked like he was trying to get a read on Nishinoya’s expression. “Are you okay?” he asks.

It takes Nishinoya a moment to answer, the last few threads of his thoughts disentangling from his mind. “Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Good.” He clears his throat, shifting on his legs to get a more comfortable position. “Just thinking.” 

They spend a few seconds in silence, staring at each other. Nishinoya doesn't know what else to say and Asahi looks like he may implode from the awkwardness. The track playing from the speakers comes to an end, another one taking its place. Unlike the previous one, this one sounds mellow with a nice acoustic melody. Again, Nishinoya doesn’t understand its lyrics but the tune is catchy enough to make his head bob along to it. 

Asahi, picking up on Nishinoya’s movements, arches his eyebrows. Slowly a faint smile appears on his lips. He excuses himself under his breath, getting up. Nishinoya’s eyes follow him. The volume of the music increases a little after Asahi fiddles with the buttons. 

When he returns, Nishinoya notices he’s more relaxed than he looks a couple of seconds ago when they were just sitting in silence. “Do you like music?” asks Asahi as he sits down.

“Yeah!” Nishinoya answers. “But I don’t listen to it much.” Shadowhunters didn’t have much use for music these days and no one in the Institute played any musical instruments. His only exposure to it is when Mrs Tanaka turns on that beat-up old radio when she cooks. 

“Is that so?” There’s a note of surprise on Asahi’s tone. “Then what do you do? When you’re free?” 

Nishinoya pauses. “Train. Study Shadowhunting and stuff. Go on patrols to kill demons.” Nishinoya realizes he doesn’t have any regular hobbies. Like non-violent activities or anything unrelated to Shadowhunting. He frowns, wondering if Asahi has any normal hobbies. 

“That’s work. _Nephilim_ work.” Asahi points out with a laugh. Nishinoya’s cheeks grow hot. “Not …—” He trails off, scrunching his eyebrows.

“Hobbies?”

Asahi’s fingers snap. “Yes, thank you.” 

“Hmph.” Nishinoya pretends to be unimpressed, turning his nose up and crossing his arms. “Fine, then my hobby is teaching you Japanese.” He gestures haughtily at the books on the table. 

A snort escapes from Asahi. “You haven’t taught me anything.”

“Oh, I will.” Nishinoya picks Azunishi and places it on the desk. Belatedly he realizes he doesn’t know what he’s trying to achieve by doing that but he acts like he does. Positioning the toy so that it faces Asahi, he musters the most teacher-like tone as he can. “Azumane, please turn to page 35 and read the passage.” 

Asahi stares at him, a half-confused but half-amused smile sitting on his features. He opens his mouth but a noise cuts him off. He jumps then realizes it’s his phone. “Excuse me.” Hurrying to the nightstand, he checks the screen before picking up the call. 

Unsure whether he should leave or not, Nishinoya busies himself with flipping throught Asahi’s books. He does his best to focus on the content but his attention drifts away from the pages to the sound of Asahi’s voice. He’s not technically eavesdropping since he barely understands English but he listens in. 

Asahi sounds different. Usually when he speaks there’s always that note of politeness or hesitation, depending on the situation. But whoever he’s talking to, they must be close to him because Nishinoya recognizes his tone is considerably lighter, less reserved and not at all like the way he speaks with Nishinoya or the others. It’s somewhat familiar but Nishinoya can’t place a finger on why it does. 

Nishinoya raises his head slightly, scanning the room before he spots Asahi. He’s sitting on the bed, back facing Nishinoya but even his posture indicates he’s at ease, even more than Nishinoya has seen. A strange sensation wriggles its way through Nishinoya’s chest. 

“ **Megumi**.” Even though the name is spoken with hushed laughter, it sounds magnified to Nishinoya’s ears, as clear as a clap in an empty room. A hazy memory of hearing Asahi’s faint voice talking on the phone in the wee hours resurfaces.Then it hits him, why the way Asahi was speaking sounded familiar. _Of_ _course_ Asahi would sound more open and relaxed! He’s talking to his girlfriend! What an idiot Nishinoya was for eavesdropping; whatever the words Asahi’s saying, it isn’t meant for him to listen. 

He stops listening. The music isn’t playing and all he can hear is Asahi’s voice. So he fills his head with internal recitations of what he remembers from Shadowhunting lessons with his tutor to drown it out. He almost considers sneaking out since Asahi’s probably forgotten him. 

 _He won’t notice, right?_  

Asahi laughs, a low but rich sound, and says something in reply to the person on the line.

 _He won’t_. Carefully, Nishinoya rises to his feet. After a heartbeat or two, he creeps towards the door, eyes trained on Asahi. However, at about a foot away from the door a floorboard creaks mutinously under his weight. He inhales sharply, biting back curses. But half a second passes and Asahi doesn’t look his way. He slips out, unnoticed. 

Asahi only becomes aware of his absence when he glances over his shoulder to see only Azunishi at the table.

* * *

“I’m still upset I didn’t get to finish my roast pork,” says Ryu after he places an order with a four-armed waiter.  
  
As soon as Ryu and the rest came back, Nishinoya made him change out of his ichor-stained gear and dragged him out to eat. Not that Nishinoya was hungry but after spending an entire day at home, he needed an excuse to get out. 

They are at a ramen shop in the downtown area one of Nishinoya’s friends recommended. Despite the hour, it isn’t crowded and the staff seem friendly and welcoming. The place is well lit, even with overhead paper lanterns that flickered gently, which made for a lovely ambiance. Interesting ramen flavors catered to different tastes, human and Downworlder alike, are listed in the menu with reasonable prices. The crowd here seem alright too, unbothered by the presence of two Shadowhunters dining with them. 

“Well, be grateful I’m treating you to Tonkotsu ramen tonight,” says Nishinoya with an air of haughtiness, “even though you betrayed me the whole day.” He eyes a fading purple bruise on Ryu’s left cheek just below his eye. He reaches to poke it, gentle enough not to hurt but hard enough for Ryu to wince. 

“Nothing personal, okay?” Ryu blows a raspberry at him, earning an annoyed look from a nearby vampire. Taking note of it, him and Ryu mirror the vampire’s rude stare until they back off with a disgusted curl of their lip. “Saeko paid me a couple hundred yen to do it,” continues Ryu as he turns back to face his parabatai. “You don’t say no to free money.”

“So much for a priceless friendship,” remarks Nishinoya with mock disappointment. He props his chin on his hand and scans around the room. “So, what happened with the others?” he asks. At the question, Ryu lights up. 

He launches into the story, starting from when they left the Institute with an animated voice that somehow carries over the background noise. Nishinoya listens but at some point, he pays less attention to the words but more on Ryu himself. No one can mistake the excitement or glee in his voice when he talks about the thrill of fighting and Kiyoko, nor the way his eyes twinkle as he gestures for reenactment. It’s endearing how animated Ryu can be. 

The four-armed waiter returns with their orders the very moment Ryu finishes recounting. Nishinoya can’t help grinning when he tucks hungrily into his food. 

“Anyway, what did you do while we were all cleaning up the warlock’s mess?” Ryu asks in between slurping noodles and chewing. “Poke through the weapons room?” 

“Nothing much.” Nishinoya swirls his straw around his iced tea; he didn’t order any food. “Just talked to Asahi for a bit,” he says when Ryu eyes him skeptically over his ramen. 

“Ooh.” A crooked smile appears on Ryu’s face. “What did you two talk about? Cute girls?” He chortles when Nishinoya cringes.

“Gross, that’s the most heterosexual thing you’ve ever spouted.”

“I’m sorry you’re heterophobic,” says Ryu, reaching over to touch Nishinoya’s arm in mock sympathy. “But really, anything interesting? I mean if I’m gonna be completely honest, talking to Asahi’s really boring,” he opines. When Nishinoya arches his eyebrows, he mistakes it for curiosity and continues talking. “All he does is smile and nod if he doesn't mumble or something. It’s kind of annoying.”

Nishinoya frowns. He doesn’t agree with Ryu’s superficial impression although he’s not one to talk since he did have the same opinion of Asahi before. That doesn’t mean hearing Ryu say those things about Asahi irk him a little. But he remains sits on the fence for that matter, neither agreeing nor rejecting. Instead, he steers the topic away. “He does have a girlfriend.” At that, Ryu becomes more interested in what he has to say. “I’m pretty sure of it.” 

“Details, man, details.” 

“I heard him talking to her. Well, actually the phone rang when we were talking and stuff and he answered it. Her name’s Megumi, I think.” 

Ryu makes a noise that’s halfway between scoffing and gagging. “First,” he says, holding up a finger, “rude that he just left you there—” 

“Actually, he did excuse himself.”

“Second,” Ryu continues as if his parabatai hadn’t said anything, “Megumi’s a pretty name. I bet she’s pretty too.” Nishinoya rolls his eyes when Ryu smiles dreamily at the thought. “Third, say what now? So like, it’s confirmed he _has_ a girlfriend? Who would’ve known.” He draws out a long whistle before going back to eating. 

Nishinoya shrugs. He takes a sip of his iced tea, staring off thoughtfully at a calligraphy painting across the room. The cold liquid is too sweet for his taste, leaving a sticky aftertaste on his tongue that lingers even after he swallows. He pushes it aside. “I mean, guys don’t ignore the person they’re chilling with just for anybody,” he says. Then a faint bitter taste rises at the back of his throat. He reaches for his tea again. 

Ryu hums in agreement before he slurps up the rest of his ramen, leaving behind the garnishes and the broth. “Definitely girlfriend,” he acknowledges. At that, the background noises of the shop fill the silence that follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shadowhunter terms  
>  **mizpah** literally means _"May the Lord watch between me and thee when we are parted."_ but it's really just a shadowhunter way of saying goodbye when shadowhunters leave for battle.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nishinoya is dressed in a faded red t-shirt, that's soaked at some places with sweat, and loose-fitting drawstring pants. His hair lies flat on his head instead of the usual spiked up style, the ends curling slightly from the humidity. Thick twining Marks peek from under his sleeves, ending just before the crooks of his elbows. He pulls up the hem of his shirt to wipe his sweat, exposing the smooth skin of his abdomen. A Calm Anger rune, standing out starkly against his pale skin, sits above the sharp dip of his right hipbone. Asahi averts his gaze at once, face prickling with heat. Though he has no reason to look away, he can't help feeling as if he's seen something he shouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew i had quite a busy month last month bc of scholarship applications but yeah anyway i didnt have much time to sit down and write but ahhh here i am to present to you, after several deleted drafts, the final product that is this update! i hope you'll enjoy <3
> 
> ( also i should ,, probably not make a habit of posting once a month yeesh )

Nishinoya would’ve preferred hanging around the area for a little longer but he can see the telltale signs of tiredness in Ryu’s posture. His parabatai insists he’s fine but Nishinoya puts his foot down and calls it a night.

After settling the bill, they emerge from the ramen shop to the street. A cold wind cuts through the warm air from inside. Nishinoya shudders, despite wearing the warmest sweater he could find, and shoves his hands into his pockets. Even though it’s officially spring, the weather hardly feels like spring. Nishinoya hopes it’d warm up sooner; he hates being cold all the time. 

“Didn’t your mom say we’d go cherry blossom viewing soon?” Nishinoya asks, remembering a topic Mrs Tanaka had brought up the other day. 

“She did. I think it's going to be great,” says Ryu. He smiles in a moony-sort of way that has Nishinoya bracing for the words that come out of his mouth next. “I can ask Kiyoko-san to be my girlfriend. It’ll be romantic!” Ryu grins like it’s the best idea ever and looks to Nishinoya as if waiting for an agreement. 

Nishinoya offers a smile; he loves Ryu to bits but sometimes listening to him pining over their senpai wears on his patience. He gets that Ryu is utterly whipped for her but having to deal with him talking about his crush for the past three years since Kiyoko showed up is starting to be like listening to a broken record. 

They pass by a group of vampires hanging under the bright neon sign of a shop. Judging from their appearance, they seem to be newly-born vampires since there’s a boldness to their gazes that older vampires don’t possess when they watch the passing Shadowhunters. However, there’s an obvious flicker of wariness in their movements. Unlike Nishinoya, who keeps his eyes ahead lest he offends someone, Ryu turns his head to glare at the vampires. But by the time he does, the vampires have lost interest, noticing the Shadowhunters are unharmed. 

“Jeez, what’s their deal?” Ryu scoffs, shaking his head.

Nishinoya doesn’t blame the vampires for their mistrust—even the diplomatic efforts to unite the Nephilim and Downworlders haven’t erased a thousand years of conflict—but it leaves a pang of sadness in his chest. 

The train ride back to their station is spent in silence. Ryu falls asleep on his parabatai’s shoulder, the scent of his shampoo tickling Nishinoya’s nose. Nishinoya shifts slightly to ease the weight on his shoulder.

The train rattled over the tracks, the noise just below the overhead monitor displaying train safety tips. A lone salaryman occupies the seat near the door, his head slumped against the plastic barrier. Down to the right are a group of schoolgirls, their eyes glued to the screens of their heavily bedazzled phones. Ryu mutters in his sleep.

Nishinoya fingers play idly on a loose thread on the sleeve of his sweater. He hums under his breath, watching the window across him. The trains interior lighting allows a reflection of him to be superimposed over the view of buildings zipping by outside. It’s somewhat disorienting to see himself sitting still while the landscape outside shift with every second. A fleeting image appears in his mind-eye: sunlight contrasted against someone’s silhouette, a halo of the ends of his brown hair turning coppery gold against the light. 

Nishinoya blinks and the world comes back to focus. 

He blinks once more with the realization the person he thought about is Asahi. A small pensive frown settles on Nishinoya’s features. Lately, thoughts of Asahi often find their way into his brain. He wonders if this is due to their new friendship or if something else entirely. At the moment, he can’t recall if the friends he made before Asahi had a similar effect on him. His frown deepens as he tries to remember. 

Too soon, an automated voice from the overhead speakers announces their station. 

* * *

Asahi stares at the empty spot across him at the table. Though he tells himself he doesn’t need to worry, he can’t help the prickling of anxiousness beneath his skin. Time ticks by and one by one, the inhabitants of the Institute show up in the room. All except Nishinoya, who is usually one of the earliest to be here. 

No one else appears interested by the apparent absence of Nishinoya, not even Mrs Tanaka who always insists everyone to be present in the dining room at mealtimes. Or Ryu, Nishinoya’s parabatai, who’s breaking off bits of toast and dipping them into his coffee.

 

Last night before bed, Asahi told himself that it wouldn’t be too bad that he forgot about Nishinoya when Megumi called. Besides, Nishinoya didn’t seem to be one who took offense easily. Asahi also wanted to return the plushie—Azunishi—too but Nishinoya was out and it didn’t feel right to leave it at the door or put it in Nishinoya’s room. So he fell asleep with the intention to apologize and return the plushie the next morning. 

But Nishinoya isn’t here and negative reasons run rampant in Asahi’s head. His mood drops from slightly anxious to awfully guilty. 

A nudge on his arm brings his attention back to the present. It’s from Kiyoko, who noticed that Asahi has been staring listlessly at his soggy cereal for the past five minutes. “Are you okay?” she asks softly, her bespectacled gray eyes bright with concern. 

Heat rises into his cheeks. “Yes, I am,” he answers, stumbling into formal speech before catching himself. Her and Suga have already made it clear that they prefer being spoken to casually as they’re all around the same age anyway and would rather not establish a hierarchy. He freezes, mouth hanging open but Kiyoko smiles and says something that sounds like ‘Don’t mind.’ 

She glances in the direction Asahi was staring at, ignoring Ryu whose expression has changed from staring warily in their direction to an excited puppy-like smile. Asahi remembers Suga joking about Ryu going green-eyed whenever a guy talks to Kiyoko. The idea of him being the subject of Ryu’s jealousy for the briefest moment and being unaware of it makes him uncomfortable. But he feels somewhat sorry for Ryu, for being infatuated to someone who is either ignoring his feelings or blind to it. 

“I think he’s outside,” she says, turning back to Asahi. 

Asahi represses the urge to flinch; he was _that_ obvious. “Afterwards,” he begins slowly, struggling to form his thoughts into Japanese, “where is Nishinoya? Ah, can you show me where Nishinoya is?” He bites his tongue after his correction, eyes flicking to Kiyoko’s expression. 

Kiyoko pauses. “Ryu,” she says, facing the person across the table. At the mention of his name, Asahi’s stomach drops slightly. Despite being here for little more than a month, he hasn’t felt entirely comfortable around Ryu. If anything, he goes out of his way to avoid Nishinoya’s parabatai as something about his too-sharp gaze puts him off.

Ryu perks up, grinning and eager to please. He opens his mouth but Kiyoko speaks before he does. “Please show Asahi where Nishinoya is after he’s eaten.” Beaming, Ryu nods fervently. 

It’s only after she taps his shoulder in reassurance does he remember about Ryu’s jealousy. His eyes flicker furtively to Ryu but the other Shadowhunter’s gaze follows Kiyoko as she leaves the room. Asahi allows himself a moment to breathe easy. Fortunately, he doesn’t get clobbered to death, like Suga had jokingly promised, afterwards. The worst he gets is Ryu’s eyes sweeping him up and down critically before muttering something that gets lost under his breath.

“Come on.” He beckons Asahi to follow him afterwards with an impatient wave of his hand. Borrowing the flip-flops at the kitchen’s back door, they walk along a path snaking by a section of the gardens Asahi hasn’t explored. 

Curiously, the plants here are lush green despite now being the end of winter. Rounded evergreen shrubs line either side of the path, with occasional gaps between them for access to the gardens. The plot to Asahi’s left appears to be a part reserved for flowers; he recognizes the Christmas roses, lavender and camellias. To his right seems like a relaxation area, with a wooden bench facing a koi pond sitting under the shade of a tree. 

Intrigued by the greenery around him, Asahi does not notice Ryu has stopped until he bumps into him. He squeaks an apology, terrified when Ryu frowns at him. “Nishinoya,” he begins only to become aware that they’ve stopped in front of a greenhouse. 

The glass building appears incongruous among what he’s seen so far. Compared to how traditional everything in the garden looked, the greenhouse looked modern, new. The glass panes are held by aluminum panels, the entire structure framed by wood for support. Upon closer inspection, the building isn’t as new as he thought it was as there is a fair amount of dirt and grime on the pitched roof and walls.

Asahi turns to thank Ryu but the other person has disappeared. Shutting his mouth, he turns back to the greenhouse and peers through the glass. At first, he doesn’t see anyone inside and he wonders if Ryu had pranked him when a head pops up from behind a bush. Asahi doesn’t notice his mouth curling up into a smile.

The air inside the greenhouse is pleasantly warm and carries the rich scent of earth and the sharp-sweet smell of herbs. The balmy atmosphere energizes Asahi, putting more spring in his step. He recognizes some of the plants being grown here, most of which have medicinal properties but there are also shrubs and flowers he has never seen before. The soft tinkling of wind-chimes is interrupted by a frustrated groan. Asahi turns his head in the direction of the noise.

Bent over a small plot, Nishinoya appears to be digging at the soil with annoyance. A pile of uprooted plants, looking sickly and thin, sits next to his feet. A ripple of sympathy passes through Asahi; he remembers the same task given to him by his tutor for botany class. Another irritated noise is drawn out from Nishinoya. He drops back on his bum and scowls balefully into space. 

Before Asahi followed Ryu, he stole a minute or two to make Nishinoya something to eat as he figured Nishinoya might've skipped breakfast. It wasn't much, just a hastily made peanut butter sandwich, but he hoped it would be enough to keep Nishinoya from being hungry for a bit. Now, the sandwich sits in a little plastic zip-lock bag Asahi is holding. Since Nishinoya seems upset about his dead plants, Asahi is caught by the fear that he might turn his frustrations on him. So he stays rooted in place. But it's not the best decision; he struggles between leaving the sandwich where Nishinoya can see it or going right up to him. 

Nishinoya says something and Asahi freezes with surprise. He's certain Nishinoya hadn't heard him coming in but he's also certain he heard Nishinoya call him. With some hesitation, he walks towards Nishinoya, making sure his footsteps can be heard so he won't startle him. When he crouches down next to Nishinoya, Asahi is greeted with a tired smile. His stomach twists in knots as he returns it. 

"Good morning," he says.

"Mornin'."

Nishinoya is dressed in a faded red t-shirt, that's soaked at some places with sweat, and loose-fitting drawstring pants. His hair lies flat on his head instead of the usual spiked up style, the ends curling slightly from the humidity. Thick twining Marks peek from under his sleeves, ending just before the crooks of his elbows. He pulls up the hem of his shirt to wipe his sweat, exposing the smooth skin of his abdomen. A Calm Anger rune, standing out starkly against his pale skin, sits above the sharp dip of his right hipbone. Asahi averts his gaze at once, face prickling with heat. Though he has no reason to look away, he can't help feeling as if he's seen something he shouldn't. 

"What were you doing?" asks Nishinoya. 

It takes Asahi a few moments to regain his composure, to look Nishinoya in the eye and answer. He opens his mouth but his voice wobbles with his answer: "S-standing." 

Nishinoya stares at him before a grin tugs his lips. "Is that so?" His eyes twinkle with amusement. "There's a teasing note in his voice when he says, "Standing is interesting." 

Flushing once more, Asahi's gaze falls to the empty plot. "What about you?" he asks in attempt to change the topic. "Why are you here?" He sits down, careful to avoid getting dirt on his butt. 

Nishinoya makes some vague gesture at the plants. Though he no longer appears as frustrated as before, there's a hint of impatience in the wave of his hand. "I have an exam today." 

"Exam?" 

Nishinoya nods. "Ukai-sensei said the plants have to be alive." He crushes one of the yellow crackled leaves of his plant with his shoe. It crunches softly underfoot. "But they're dead now." His tone bears grim acceptance. 

Asahi feels sorry for him although he hopes Nishinoya's tutor will be lenient to him. He wants to say something but he can't think of how to express his sympathy or cheer Nishinoya up until he remembers the sandwich. "This," he says as he presents it to Nishinoya, "this is yours." At Nishinoya's confusion, he explains hastily, "You don't — didn't eat breakfast, right?" 

Nishinoya reaches out to accept the sandwich but freezes halfway. "Oh, I almost forgot!" He holds his hands out. Asahi almost flinches but stops with relief when he sees that Nishinoya's hands are gloved; the image of dirt-caked fingernails fades out of his mind. Nishinoya removes his gloves carefully and sets them on top of the gardening tools he used. 

"Wait here," he tells Asahi, though Asahi isn't going anywhere, and hurries off to wash his hands. 

Asahi pokes around while waiting. The plot where Nishinoya grew his herbs bears a little sign with his name. He almost smiles, brushing his fingers over the katakana characters; the clumsy The plot next to his belongs to Ryu; Asahi finds it almost ironic how Ryu didn't seem like a green-thumb type yet the herbs in his plot are thriving. He assumes Ryu got it from his father, Mr Tanaka, who often spends his time gardening. 

The crinkling of plastic announces Nishinoya's return. There are wet patches on his jeans where he wiped his hands on. "What sandwich is this?" He pulls the bag open. 

"Peanut butter." Asahi recalls buying a jar of it as his utmost priority when he and Daichi went grocery shopping. It was difficult to find a store that sold it and he mistakenly bought peanut cream, thinking it tasted the same, but was appalled by the gelatinous goo inside the jar. It even tasted horribly disgusting. Fortunately, he managed to find a jar of peanut butter in the imports section after his third week.

Nishinoya's eyebrows furrow together as he eyes the sandwich. "Ehh? Isn't it expensive?" 

Asahi shrugs. It's not a big deal, really. Besides, he bought a huge jar of it, more than what he can eat by himself, so he may as well share.

After a long skeptical look at Asahi, Nishinoya mutters thanks for the food and takes a bite out of the sandwich. 

Asahi holds his breath. A sudden jittery nervousness overtakes him. The peanut butter isn't as good as the brand he usually eats in Australia; it's a bit sweeter and has a thinner consistency than he's used to. There's no doubt it's infinitely better than peanut cream yet Asahi worries it may not be to Nishinoya's liking.

With a slight frown, Nishinoya chews a few times before his features relax. Cool relief washes over Asahi as he remarks, "Delicious!" Nishinoya takes another bite, and another, and another until the sandwich is gone. Licking his lips, he looks to Asahi for more but Asahi shakes his head. The light pout that appears on Nishinoya's expression is somewhat endearing. 

"So, Asahi-san," begins Nishinoya as he folds the zip-lock bag into a neat little square on his lap, "what are you doing today?" It's only a simple question, asked in the most casual of tones yet Asahi finds difficulty in answering it. 

Today's a Wednesday, so he'll go grocery shopping with Saeko later. He'll also have a free afternoon, which he'll use for working out, either alone or with Daichi if his parabatai will be around. The evening will be reserved for patrolling. Now, it would've been easy to explain it all if Asahi could say it in English but as far as he knows, Nishinoya isn't fluent, and he still isn't confident with his Japanese. 

Nishinoya has lifted his head to look at Asahi, concerned by the lack of response. He repeats his question again, slower this time, but it only makes Asahi feel pressured. 

"I don't know," he blurts out, voice shrill. Suddenly, his heart squeezes into the size of a walnut. _Why_ don't _you know?_ He can almost hear Nishinoya ask. His scalp prickles with embarrassment and he's certain he looks constipated and fearful. 

But Nishinoya regards him for a second then says, "Is that so? Hm." Asahi watches as he tucks the zip-lock square in his pocket, wondering if the deliberate movements or the impassive expression on his face meant something else. Something like 'Oh, what a pity that you don't know.' 

"Then, do you want to go on a patrol with me?"

Asahi isn't sure if he's heard Nishinoya right. "Huh?” 

"Patrol," Nishinoya repeats. He sits back on his palms. His expression is open, curious, like he could mean nothing other than what he asked. "Tonight," he clarifies. 

"B-but — Daichi … I'm patrolling with Daichi tonight."

"Oh, so you don't want to patrol with me?" 

Asahi has gone the same color of pink as the flowers behind him. "T-that's not what I meant!" 

"Then, I'll ask Daichi if it's okay." Nishinoya rises to his feet. Pale morning sunlight streaming through the glass roof lands on his face, bathing his skin in a soft golden glow and washing his ends of his dark hair into bronze. His amber eyes have turned a luminous shade of gold. 

"It'll be fun, I promise," he said, though Asahi is certain he wouldn't have doubted it, not with the way he grinned and held out his hand. 

* * *

The skin of Asahi's left hand still tingles with the ghost of Nishinoya's touch. The moment of contact was brief, lasting no more than five seconds, as Nishinoya pulled him up to his feet. Yet when Nishinoya's hand came around his, Asahi felt like he touched a live wire. He remembers how small Nishinoya's hand appeared in his, how firm yet soft Nishinoya's grip was, and the warmth radiating off his skin. Asahi recalls how his senses pleasantly buzzed after they touched, making him somewhat lightheaded as Nishinoya showed him the flowers in the greenhouse. 

Mrs Tanaka's concernee voice breaks into his thoughts. "What's wrong with your hand?" 

Asahi starts, closing his left hand into a loose fist. "Nothing," he mumbles as color rushes into his cheeks, "it's fine." 

"Hm?" Mrs Tanaka peers at him from molding a handful of rice into onigiri. In many ways, her children resemble her. They have the same thin eyebrows and sharp gaze which gives them a rather stern and imposing appearance. They also have the same way of speaking, dragging the last syllable in their sentences so it sounded like either they were always emphasizing what they were saying or chiding you. "You keep looking at it, though," says Mrs Tanaka as she returns to her task at hand. 

Asahi shakes his head, lips sealed tight. He and Nishinoya had spent quite some time in the greenhouse earlier. Asahi wanted to apologize then, for last night, but Nishinoya was talking a mile a minute before he remembered the time. After they reached the main building of the Institute, Nishinoya excused himself without so much of a goodbye or thanks. Though Asahi didn't mind their abrupt parting, he did feel a tiny sting at watching Nishinoya hurry off. Vaguely, he wondered if this was how Nishinoya felt when he was on the phone with Megumi and forgot about him. 

With some effort, Asahi drags his attention back at his task. Mrs Tanaka found him wandering aimlessly about the kitchen before asking him to help her out with making lunch.

The sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen brings Asahi's head up. His heart leaps before tumbling when the person appears round the door; it's someone he's never seen before. A slender man with dyed blond hair held tightly back by a headband enters the kitchen. A silver helix piercing on his left ear glitters like a winking eye. Though a bored expression sits on his thin face, his gaze is hawk-like, almost hostile. 

Asahi looks to Mrs Tanaka but she doesn’t give any outward signs of acknowledgement towards the stranger. Biting his lip, Asahi taps her shoulder and whispers, “Who’s that?”                         

The man saunters towards them, sparing Asahi a glance. “Ukai Keishin,” he says, apparently hearing Asahi’s hushed voice earlier. He pulls up a chair and sits across them. After greeting Mrs Tanaka (“Hey, Auntie. What's for lunch?”), he plucks an onigiri from the container and munches on it. 

A flicker of recognition passes through Asahi at the man’s name. When Nishinoya mentioned about his tutor by name, Asahi thought of an elderly man bearing a stern expression. After all, he based this assumption on the previous tutors he had, all of whom were middle-aged, hidebound and strict to a fault. This Ukai, who is brushing off a grain of rice off his cheek, can’t be older than thirty. 

Ukai speaks with Mrs Tanaka in between bites of his onigiri. It’s hard for Asahi to listen in because of Ukai’s accent—how he drags and slurs his vowels to the point he sounds like he has a cold. Some of the words he uses are unfamiliar though Mrs Tanaka does not seem to have a problem with understanding Ukai; in fact, she uses the same accent.

“Excuse me,” Asahi begins when there’s a lull in the conversation, “but are you Nishinoya’s tutor?” 

Ukai leans back, tilting the chair backwards until it balances on its two back legs. “That’s me,” he says after he swallows his food. He regards Asahi with cool interest though his gaze is so direct that Asahi has to look away. Mrs Tanaka takes the cue to introduce Asahi to her nephew. He makes a remark that’s lost on Asahi but indicates pleasant surprise. 

Belatedly, Asahi realizes he’s been asked a question. “S-sorry, can you say that one more time?” 

Mrs Tanaka laughs gently and tells Ukai to use standard Japanese. “My apologies,” Ukai amends, flashing his teeth in a grin. “You’re one of the Aussie Shadowhunters Noya and Ryu talk about, right?” Though he sounds clearer now, there’s a faint echo of his earlier accent beneath his syllables. 

Asahi nods, muscles slackening with relief when he understands what Ukai is saying now. “Nishinoya talked … about you this morning.” 

Ukai rubs his chin thoughtfully. “Noya didn’t like you. Did you know that?” Asahi shrugs; he always had assumptions but to hear it from someone else brings a sharp sting of hurt. Noticing Asahi’s expression, Ukai changes the topic hurriedly. He asks about other things like whether Asahi had a parabatai, what life is like in Melbourne, and his opinion of life here. “But you’re Japanese, right?” Ukai inquires with a frown; his tone carries curiosity but Asahi stiffens self-consciously. 

“Half-Japanese.” Asahi’s voice is somewhat strained. “My father was Australian.” 

“Hm? Then, how’s your Japanese?”

“So-so. I’m still learning.” 

Ukai regards him with renewed interest before speaking his mind once more. But this time, Asahi chooses not to listen and goes on autopilot. The ringing in his ears and the tight knot in his throat helps to tune Ukai out, though it doesn’t prevent him from understanding the underlying meaning of Ukai’s opinion. 

 _If you’re Japanese, you should be able to understand it clearly. You have no excuse not to, even if you’re half. It’s an embarrassment if you can’t even speak a lick of it._  

Possibly sensing Asahi’s shift in moods, Mrs Tanaka gently dismisses him, thanking him for his help. Asahi is more than happy to leave. The haze of negativity follows him however, clouding his thoughts and bringing a sour taste in his mouth. The need to put as much distance between himself and the kitchen leads him to Daichi’s room on the fourth floor. 

Asahi raises his hand to knock, then frowns. Except for breakfast, he hasn’t seen Daichi all morning, though it might’ve been his fault since he was with Nishinoya for awhile before being cooped up in the kitchen with Mrs Tanaka to prepare lunch. Then again, he remembers he hasn’t been seeing Daichi around in the Institute during the day since their second week of staying here.

Asahi’s chest tightens as he lowers his hand. He draws a deep breath to regain his composure, to bury the unpleasant feeling deep down where he won’t feel it. 

“ **Why are you moping around outside my room?** ” Asahi’s eyes fly open as he jumps back from the door. Daichi is a few feet away from him, wearing a puzzled expression on his face. “ **It’s not even noon** ,” he adds, coming up to Asahi. 

“ **Ah, it’s nothing** ,” lies Asahi, blinking a few times; the pressure behind his eyes has receded. He focuses at the point between Daichi’s eyebrows. “ **I thought I’d come over to say hi**.” 

“ **To say hi** ,” echoes Daichi with a note of suspicion. 

Asahi clears his throat. “ **Yes**.” He looks Daichi up and down. “ **Where were you, anyway?** ” 

“ **Well, I was sorting books in the library; there’s a really big pile of books just stacked by the shelves**.” Daichi makes a vague gesture to show how big the pile is. “ **Noya stopped me on the way up just now to ask me something** ,” he adds as he passes Asahi to enter his room. 

Asahi’s heart does a flip in his chest. “ **Did he?** ” Curiosity echoes in his question. He follows after Daichi, sliding the fusuma shut behind him. “ **What did he say?** ” he prompts when Daichi doesn’t answer his earlier question. 

Like Asahi’s room, Daichi’s is just as neat and orderly. He hasn’t bothered with decorating the room—where was the need to when they were going to leave in a year anyway? The only thing about Daichi’s room that made it distinctly his is the ridiculous tiger toy that dances in the presence of light. Asahi smiles faintly at the memory of getting it for Daichi on his tenth birthday. 

“ **He wanted to join tonight’s patrol**.” Daichi flops onto his bed with a small grunt. 

A nervous buzz fills Asahi’s insides. He perches at the edge of the bed, near Daichi’s feet. “You said no?” he asks though he can guess the answer. He doesn’t spare a glance over his shoulder, as if he could somehow postpone the arrival of disappointment. 

Daichi hums in assent. “ **We’re just patrolling a small area. There’s no need for a crowd**.Though he has a point, Asahi can’t help a tiny twitch of annoyance. Almost like he’s senses Asahi’s quiet dissent, Daichi says, “Did you want him to come with us?” 

“ **It’s fine**.” Asahi’s fingers pick at a loose thread sticking out of the bed sheet. “ **We haven’t patrolled together in awhile. I can wait until the next patrol schedule comes up,** ” he tries to answer lightly but his tone is somewhat strained. His muscles tense involuntarily at the silence that follows. The mattress dips slightly and fabric rustles before Daichi’s face comes into view at his peripheral vision. 

A few heartbeats pass before he feels Daichi rub his shoulder. His eyes slide shut at the his parabatai’s touch. “ **Hey** ,” begins Daichi in a low but reassuring voice, “ **I know we haven’t been spending a lot of quality _parabatai_ time together but you know you can talk to me right?**” 

“ **I know** ,” Asahi sighs but a dull ache thuds in his chest. In the past weeks, Asahi has noticed how well Daichi gets along with others while he still struggles around them sometimes. The language barrier is one thing but sometimes Asahi feels like it’s his fault for not being more sociable. _At least there’s Noya_ , he thinks but the thought is dashed when he remembers that he’s still awkward around Nishinoya. 

“ **You can talk to me too** ,” says Asahi, not wanting to face and voice his own struggles yet. “ **I’m your parabatai too, aren’t I?** ” 

A soft snort escapes Daichi as he scoots over to sit next to Asahi. “ **Ah, what’s there to talk about?** ” he says. Asahi agrees; other than the worries and fears he carried here since leaving Australia, there isn't much they can talk about. 

Then an idea occurs to Asahi; it lifts the corners of his mouth upwards. “ **Suga?** ” he suggests and Daichi stiffens beside him. “ **It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you hanging this closely around anyone—** ” 

“ **Suga’s nice**.” Daichi’s reply is abrupt enough to confirm Asahi’s vague suspicions. “ **Suga’s … _nice_**.” Asahi points out that that’s a well-known and Daichi scowls and elbows his side. Asahi elbows back, of course, but after a few moments Daichi gives in. 

“ **We’re just friends**.”

“ **Mhm**.”

A pensive, though rueful, frown creases Daichi’s forehead. “ **Isn’t it silly for me to have a crush at this time?** ” he asks, almost anxiously. “ **I mean we’ll only be here for a year.”** The meaning behind his words isn’t lost on Asahi; too many things could go wrong.

“ **No, I suppose not. Sometimes, we can’t help feelings,** ” Asahi says, though all he can think of is 

* * *

“He said no.” Nishinoya places his foot in front of the other with ease, despite being balanced on a beam about twenty feet up from the hardwood floor of the training room. He can’t help the mild snap of irritation in his tone. “I mean, the more the merrier, right?” 

Ryu, who is following him from below, peers up with a frown. “May I know the context?” he asks. He sits in the middle of a painted bulls-eye. 

“Daichi,” sighs Nishinoya as he comes to a stop where the beam intersects another. He plops himself down, uncaring when the wood shakes under his sudden weight. “I asked him if I could join him for tonight’s patrol and he said no.” He cranes his neck to look at Ryu, arching an eyebrow. “What did you think I was saying?” 

“Oh, you know …” Ryu trails off. “I thought you were thinking of trying out polyamorous dating or something.” When he earns a pointed look from Nishinoya, he changes the topic immediately. “Why do you want to join the patrol anyway?” 

Nishinoya’s legs stop swinging. “I need some action. Y’know?” Ryu snorts and makes a suggestion where Nishinoya _could_ get action under his breath. From where he’s perched, Nishinoya glares down at his parabatai. “Okay, so maybe I just want to go on a patrol with Asahi, that’s all,” he admits indignantly. 

Ryu make a curious grunt as Nishinoya lands on the floor next to him. He lands with the grace of a cat, the padded floor mats absorbing most of the impact but it’s almost eerie how his landing makes almost no sound. There are no Soundless runes on his ankles either. 

“But you could just wait until Saeko puts up the new patrol schedule tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, but—” Nishinoya breaks off with an impatient noise. His skin prickles strangely and he knows Ryu is staring at him. “What?” 

“I don’t mean to pry but what’s going on?” 

“What do you mean?” 

Ryu narrows his eyes, a sign that Nishinoya’s play-dumb act doesn’t work on him. “You and Asahi.” Nishinoya remains silent, tucking his knees under his chin. Though Ryu isn’t making any contact with him, he can almost feel Ryu’s thin finger prodding his side for an answer. 

“Nothing. Nothing’s going on.” 

“Oh, yes. Why would I ask when _nothing’s_ going on?” Ryu says dryly. 

Nishinoya curls his toes hard, turning his attention to the almost painful friction between his skin and the floor mat. “What’s there to know?” 

Ryu takes a few seconds to speak: “I thought you didn’t like him.” When Nishinoya gives him a _what are you trying to say_ look, he amends. “Okay, we didn’t like him and Daichi at first because we were so put off by how everyone seemed to like them right off the bat.” 

“Correct. Though, by everyone, you mean ‘Kiyoko’.” 

“You’re not wrong, but I’m sure you get how I feel, right?” 

Nishinoya does, in fact, remembering how everyone was just so nice to the Australian Shadowhunters. But there was more than that. “That, and they look capable. So … everything I’m not.” 

“I beg to differ. _You’re_ everything _they’re_ not.” 

A laugh escapes Nishinoya, without mirth and full of disbelief. “You mean short, rude and bad-tempered?” 

“Oh, don’t be too hard on yourself.” Ryu’s smile melts into a serious expression. “I guess we felt a little jealous of them, didn’t we?” He’s right, and Nishinoya feels a little annoyed that he is. 

“But I still don't like Daichi,” Ryu says. “I can work with him but I don’t think I’ll get along with him on a personal level. Like being buddies or something. Something about his Mr Perfect vibe.” He frowns in bemusement when Nishinoya chuckles at him. “What about you?”

“I think he’s an alright guy.” 

“I meant you and Asahi.” 

Nishinoya’s muscles tighten before he realizes it himself. He opens his mouth but he can’t find what to say. He could beat around the bush but that’d only result in Ryu poking him until he speaks. “We’re okay. We’re friends, I think.”

“You think.” Ryu leans back on his palms, stretching out his legs. “I know Suga told you to be nice to him and all but I didn’t think you’d befriend him. Since you were so put off by him at the start.” When Nishinoya flashes a pointed look at him, Ryu beams in triumph. “So what changed?” 

Nishinoya shuts his eyes. A series of images bloom behind his eyelids; the rich timbre of a husky voice, doe-like brown eyes that widened when their gazes tangled, a shy smile that blossomed warmth in his chest, the quiet determination burning behind a mask of focus and their hands clutching each other. He opens his eyes, the world swimming back into focus. A strange but familiar ache envelops his being. 

“When I find the answer, I’ll let you know.” 

* * *

Later in the evening, Nishinoya finds Azunishi by his door, with a little note tucked under its wing. His pulse quickens as he bends to pick the plushie up. The note isn’t exactly tucked under the wing per se as there’s a little strip of adhesive that keeps the note from fluttering off. 

Holding Azunishi under his arm, Nishinoya unfolds the note and is greeted by neat, almost spidery writing. The first thing coming to his mind is Asahi and the second is Whoa, he has such nice handwriting. His lips curve upwards in pleasant surprise. 

 _Here is Azunishi. Also, I’m sorry about last night. Going on a patrol tonight. Can we hang out tomorrow? — ASAHI._  

Nishinoya can almost hear Asahi reading it —no, _saying_ it— awkwardly and haltingly to him. The idea widens his smile into a grin. 

He didn’t mind last night, not really, when Asahi forgot about him, but thought it sweet that Asahi felt the need to apologize. But hanging out with Asahi tomorrow … Nishinoya’s certain he hasn’t got anything important in his schedule tomorrow. 

He folds the note into the neat rectangle it was before. As he steps into his room, he sends a silent reply and hopes Asahi will hear it. 

_I’d love to._


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It doesn't irk him as much as it used to, the differences in their personality. If anything, Nishinoya thinks they could be opposites. Where Nishinoya is excitable and loud, Asahi is placid and soft-spoken. Nishinoya is boisterous and energetic, Asahi is quiet and gentle. Perhaps it was why he didn’t like Asahi at first and Asahi was scared of him. Perhaps it’s exactly why, now, he’d like to get to know Asahi better, to understand his little quirks and habits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhh hello again everyone! just using the pre-chapter notes to let you all know that i found a nasty error (aka a plot hole) in the 1st chapter of the fic that clashed horribly with the fics's current events. it was a mistake on my part ( _cough_ i didnt do a proper outline for this fic _cough_ )
> 
> in case you were wondering, in the 1st chapter it was mentioned that the trees by the road leading to the institute were already budding and that spring was a week away. this clashes with chapter 6 where it was mentioned that it was the end of winter. i have made the necessary edits to rectify this error
> 
> but just to clarify, the current season in this fic's timeline is now the beginning of spring.
> 
> also, i've added some important shadowhunter definitions in the 1st chapter.
> 
> so yeah if you see any terms youre not familiar with (or if you want to point out any continuity errors in this fic—i sure hope there wont be any more) pls feel free to let me know in the comments or whatever.

Since they left the Institute, Asahi has been plagued by the uncomfortable press of the feeling he’s forgotten something. Although he’s supposed to be focusing on locating the demons which have set his Sensor clicking furiously in his jacket’s pocket, he keeps coming back to recall what exactly he’s forgotten. 

“ _Asahi_.” The sudden tug on his sleeve yanks Asahi out of his thoughts. His cheeks flush as he looks over his shoulder to Daichi, whose eyebrows are furrowed. He opens his mouth to apologize for being distracted when he realizes Daichi’s frown is directed at something across the street. 

There is a bar across the street, its name displayed by spluttering neon lights over the entrance. Stumbling out of it is a group of three people, laughing among themselves as the door slowly swings shut behind them, offering a glimpse into the bar behind them. Asahi would’ve ignored them if his Sensor didn’t start clicking with renewed intensity. 

Anticipation coils within Asahi’s gut as he watches the glamor fade out on the group. Only one of them is mundane, horribly drunk, while the other two’s features shift away to reveal grayish human-shaped blobs and maliciously gleaming eyes. Asahi glances to Daichi and a moment of understanding passes through them. 

They slip among the passing mundanes who don’t give them notice thanks to the newly applied glamor runes. Although invisible, Asahi and Daichi have to be careful not to make bodily contact with them, since that can be felt by mundanes. Their progress is slowed down due to their precaution but the demons ahead are taking their sweet time, unaware of being stalked. 

Asahi’s hand twitches to the hilt of one of his seraph blades strapped to his belt. His eyes are trained on the back of one of the demons’ fleshless head. Even with the background noise around him, all he can hear is his pulse beating with the rhythm of the hunt. Yet, the nagging feeling persists in the back of his mind.

He’s certain he has everything he needs right now. The witchlight stone he’s had since he was ten is a comfortable weight in his jeans pocket. His stele is tucked next to his long hunting knife in his belt. The spare seraph blade is sheathed and stored within his jacket. 

 _What did I forget?_ He thinks as he pats himself down. 

Abruptly, the demons break out from the crowd and duck into a dark alleyway. Both Asahi’s and Daichi’s paces quicken from the slinking tread to a brisk jog. A couple of mundanes stumble from being shouldered out of the way, blinking around in confusion. Daichi takes the lead, pressing his back against the wall near the mouth of the alley. He creeps forward a step then peers. 

“ **Quick, give me a _nyx_ rune**,” He says, but Asahi is ahead of him, having already applied Mark for night vision on his own forearm, before administering one for his parabatai. Daichi waits for the rune to take effect, his vision adjusting before the alley seemingly blazes to clarity. 

The demons have tossed the mundane into a heap onto some garbage. With no one to see, the glamor has rolled off them to reveal their true form.

“ ** _Muriel!_** ” Daichi’s seraph blade fills the dark alleyway with blazing light. The sudden, harsh illumination causes the demons to recoil and spin to face the Shadowhunters. 

“Nephilim.” The demons hiss in unison, their forms distorting again. This time, they appear more humanoid but their anatomy is all wrong; the yellow flickering light nearby throws their featureless yet grotesque faces in stark relief. They stand on their haunches from their too-long limbs, releasing low and thick growls that seem to vibrate through the air. 

For a moment, nobody moves. Then both sides explode into action. 

Daichi brings his blade in a low slicing arc, forcing the demons to jump away from the path of the knife. One of them leaps back onto a Dumpster and launches itself over his head as its friend takes him head on. Asahi barely has time to brace himself when it crashes bodily on him, a heavy but semi-tangible mass that stinks of rotting garbage. 

Years of Shadowhunter training kick in as he falls over, twisting mid-air to throw the demon off him. Pain explodes on elbows as he bangs painfully into the concrete. The rough contact with the ground sends a weird tug on his gear jacket’s sleeve. The demon springs to its feet away from him, lips drawn back in a snarl; had Asahi not been in a life-or-death situation, he would have the capacity to find its human-but-not-too-human features grotesque. 

Gritting his teeth through the wave of dizziness, Asahi seizes his fallen seraph blade inches away from him and forces himself on his feet. He brandishes the blade before him, causing the demon to back a step with a thick growl.

Behind him, he can hear Daichi and the other demon fighting; they’re too close and the walls on either side of him are too near. In a crowded space like this, the Shadowhunter’s movements have to be limited or they risk hurting each other. Asahi doubts the demons will have the same reservations. He bites back a curse as the demon paces in small steps, waiting for an opening. 

Past the demon ahead of Asahi, the world goes on, oblivious to the fight in the alley. A couple comes to a stop at the mouth of it, in such close proximity with the pacing Du’Sien that Asahi almost wants to scream at them to get out of the way before they can get hurt. Strangely, the sight of the couple triggers that little _I’ve-forgotten-something_ feeling, which has been submerged beneath the thrill of the battle. 

Sensing his distraction, the Du’Sien demon pounces with a high yowl. The demon’s hands have disfigured into long razor-sharp claws, extended, and its eyes turn into fathomless black pits. Asahi brings his arms up to protect his face but the claws rake his arms, tearing through fabric and skin. Choking back a cry, Asahi drops his weapon in time to be backhanded across the face by the demon. 

Starbursts explode behind his eyelids as he stumbles back, gasping. Somehow, in the middle of this, his mind remembers what he’s forgotten. An extremely important detail that’s unrelated to the present situation. 

_Before you ask to hang out with someone, you should’ve had a place in mind to visit._

“ **By the Angel, I’m such a fucking idiot**.” 

Asahi is slammed back against the wall but not before he manages to catch the demon by its wrist, preventing its claws from ripping his eyes out. Up close, he can almost see his own reflection in the dark eyes of the slavering demon. His arms shake from the effort of holding it back. A low gurgling laughter escapes from the demon as the tips of its claws draw closer to its face. “ **Doesn’t feel very good to be on the losing side, huh?** ” Its hot, stinking breath washes over Asahi’s face. 

Asahi’s answer is him banging his forehead in its face. The _thud_ of the impact reverberates in his skull, swiftly followed by a pain that makes him regret doing it at once. The demon howls in pain, doubling over as it spits curses in its language. Blinking the stars swimming across his vision, Asahi yanks his hunting knife from his belt and brings it downward. The knife misses the back of the demon’s skull but plunges right through its nape. Acidic blackish fluid, ichor, bursts from the puncture as he gives it a savage twist, hearing bones in the demon’s neck snap. 

Releasing one last cry, it disappears. 

Breathing raggedly, Asahi spins on his foot to see Daichi wrestling the other demon. He takes a step forward, and feels the world tilt and shift around him. A bitter taste rises at the back of his throat as he forces one foot in front of the other. A high yowl of agony is ripped out of the demon as Daichi forces it to the ground, knee in between its shoulder blades while he grasps one of its arms from behind it. The Du’Sien demon thrashes but Daichi gives its arm a tiny yank, causing it to gasp. 

Asahi watches as its features shift into a teary-eyed woman. His stomach tightens as he raises his blade; he hates it when demons do this. 

“ _Please_ —” Whatever it wanted to say is lost when Asahi slashes his blade. 

The demon shimmers out of existence. 

Daichi turns to grin up at him but his eyes flash with alarm as Asahi gropes the wall behind him for support. “Raziel, your forehead.”   

“I’m fine.” Asahi squeezes his eyes shut. He really shouldn’t have head-butted that demon. His left arm is taken by Daichi’s firm grip, and his sleeve is pushed up to bare his skin. A light stinging sensation traces across his inner forearm before the pain recedes. An _iratze_ occupies the space between a _Dexterity_ and _Night Vision_ rune. 

Asahi releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding; Daichi gives him a faint smile. “ **Well, I guess that’s pretty much all the action we’ll be having tonight** ,” says Daichi as he gently turns Asahi’s head aside to bare his neck. Another iratze is placed on his skin, just below his ear. Asahi almost sighs in relief as the healing runes take effect, pouring a cool numbness over the throbbing pain of his wounds.

“ **Thank the Angel** ,” says Asahi dryly.

After rousing the drunk person, who simply peered around in confusion, Asahi and Daichi emerge from the alley. Since their area has already been cleared of demons for this week, Asahi turns towards one of the streets that will lead them back to their starting point when something holds him back. “What?” He frowns over his shoulder. “Bus stop’s that way.” 

Daichi rolls his eyes at him. “I’m aware of that. But I want to explore this place for awhile.” He sweeps his hand in the direction of the street behind them, full of dazzling neon lights and people. Asahi doesn’t realize he’s made a face until Daichi tsks at him. “Come on, we’re here now. We might as well have a look around.” 

Knowing there’s no way to reason with him, Asahi lets Daichi drag him along. As they weave around mundanes and peer through shop windows, Asahi recalls being in a similar situation, albeit with a different person. The memory of Nishinoya tugging him down unfamiliar streets surfaces in his mind, tugging a gentle, almost absentminded smile on his face.

Daichi casts him a curious look. “ **Did you hit your head real hard back there? We should probably have a Silent Brother to look at it, if you did.** ” 

“ **Ah, what? Oh, no, I didn't. Just thought of something funny**.” Asahi turns away, pretending to be suddenly interested in the shop across the street so Daichi won’t see the color spreading across his cheeks. He doesn’t notice Daichi arching his eyebrows or his mouth quirking at the sides at his parabatai’s odd behavior. 

After cancelling out their glamor runes, they visit a café Daichi seems to have visited before (probably with Suga, Asahi thinks). Asahi lets the glamor peel off his vision when he peruses at the overhead beverages menu, unsurprised to find some sections of it dedicated to Downworlder tastes—blood smoothie for vampires, mixed berries for faeries and something with peanut butter for werewolves. Daichi orders a passion fruit bubble tea sweetened with wildflower honey while Asahi tries their milk foam black coffee; Daichi teases him for his ‘boring taste’ and he shoots back with a comment about how he’ll suffer from diabetes if he keeps drinking all these sugary drinks. They squeeze into a booth by the window so they can watch people passing by while they unwind.

As Asahi considers if he should try the strawberry soufflé calling him from the display, Daichi nudges his foot under the table. It’s almost endearing how he clasps his bubble tea with both hands. “ **I heard you call yourself a ‘fucking idiot’ back in the alley** ,” he says, nursing his tea. “ **What was that about?** ” 

Asahi watches as the little tapioca pearls get sucked upwards through the large straw. “ **Nothing important** ,” he mumbles, “ **at that point in time**.” A pause lingers in the air between them before his resolve not to speak crumbles. “ **Okay, maybe it was to me, but it wasn’t related to the demons**.” 

“ **Mm, left your underwear in the dryer or something? _Ow!_** ” Daichi’s knees bang up against the table, rattling the tissue stand on top of it. A few heads turn their way but otherwise nobody shoots them weird looks. “ **I’m joking. Sheesh, Asahi**.” Daichi’s nostrils flare. 

A serene, though triumphant, expression graces Asahi’s features. Then he tells Daichi about his mid-battle realization, which eventually becomes convoluted as he rushes to speak his mind. When he rambles, his eyes flit here and there on the random details around him. The off-white color of the walls that are decorated with murals; the speaker perched at the corner where the wall meets the ceiling above Daichi’s head; the glittering headlights of a passing car. He gestures a lot with his hands too, though these days he tries to keep them still when he speaks. “ **I mean you know I don’t really take initiative sometimes—** ” 

“ **Oh yes** ,” acknowledges Daichi in a dry manner, “ **it's one of your personality traits**.”  
Asahi lets that one slide. “ **Yeah, and the thing is I asked someone to hang out with me, on impulse, and now I’m painfully aware that I don’t know any good places to _go_ to since I’m always at the Institute**.” 

Daichi regards him for a long moment; his bubble tea is almost finished now so it makes an empty, sucking noise when he sips on it. “ **I’m guessing this person is Noya?** ” Asahi almost chokes on his coffee, and Daichi grins. “ **Come on, it’s not that hard to guess. He’s the only person you’ve been hanging around with** ,” he points out.  
  
Heat spills into Asahi’s cheek. “ **Yeah, but I’m friends with the others too**.” _Sorta_ , Asahi adds silently.  
  
Daichi snorts, hardly impressed with the feeble cover-up. “ **So, what, is this like a date or something?** ”  
  
Asahi makes yet another inelegant noise. He almost considers beating Daichi over the head with the tissue stand. “ **It's _not_ a date**,” he hisses. “ **We’re just hanging out tomorrow! Nothing special** ,” he insists though his heart twinges, almost mutinously. 

Perhaps some part of him already considers otherwise; this is Nishinoya he’s hanging out with, after all. The first person he’d been in awe, and slightly terrified, of when he first came here. The person he was convinced would never stop treating him like an unwelcome guest. The person whose unexpected smile brought a sudden warmth to sing in his chest. 

Asahi shakes his head and reaches for his coffee. He burns his tongue from sipping too quickly but suppresses the urge to wince. Daichi suggests him to use whatever time he has left to Google possible places and hope for the best that Nishinoya doesn’t mind that they're _mundane_ places and that Asahi has no sense of apparent direction. 

“ **Well, it wouldn’t hurt to text him** ,” says Daichi. “ **You do have his number, right?** ” When Asahi shakes his head, an unimpressed noise escapes from Daichi. He pulls out his phone and taps a few things on the screen. In a jiffy, Asahi’s phone pings with a notification in his pocket. 

Heart thumping in his throat, Asahi saves Nishinoya’s number and hits the messaging app. There, he hesitates. His phone is facing down on the table the next second. Before Daichi can open his mouth to ask, Asahi says, “I can’t do this.” 

“ **You just killed a demon, like, ten minutes ago and you’re enjoying a coffee.** A coffee!” exclaims Daichi as if that can put things in perspective. “ **Texting Noya won’t kill you**.”  
  
“My Japanese is bad.”

“ **Oh, for Raziel’s sake**.” Reaching across the table, Daichi snatches his parabatai’s phone out of his hands. Asahi doesn’t resist. He watches, instead, as Daichi’s thumbs fly over the screen. His phone is returned, although Daichi leaves a whole block of text unsent.

 _Good evening, Nishinoya. It's Asahi. I’d like to talk about tomorrow’s hangout. I’ve just remembered that I do not know of any place we can go to tomorrow. I am very sorry_.

Asahi snorts. “ **You sound so formal**.” He edits the text—he doesn’t speak that formally with Nishinoya—before hitting the send button. A blue text bubble on the right side of the screen appears. Some of his nervousness dissipates. 

“ _You_ sound formal when you speak in Japanese,” returns Daichi with a superior air. 

Asahi would’ve stuck his tongue out at him if his phone didn’t light up with a message from Nishinoya. 

 _That’s okay, Asahi-san! Leave it to me!_ Nishinoya’s message reads. Asahi frowns and reads it over again to make sure he isn’t dreaming. Relief washes over him. Though he’s safe for now, he’ll have to make it up to Nishinoya later somehow. 

“ **Thank you so much, Daichi. What would I do without a handsome, smart and reliable parabatai like you**?” says Daichi in a mockery of Asahi’s voice. That’s when Asahi really sticks his tongue out at him.

* * * 

Nishinoya clicks his phone off, dropping it onto the mattress near his body beside Azunishi. The note from Asahi is still in his pocket.

He doesn’t feel disappointed or annoyed that Asahi has no idea of where they can go, not one bit. Kind of expected it, really. But no, he couldn’t hold it against Asahi. 

Anyway, he’s got a great idea of what they can do tomorrow. 

* * * 

“I do hope you’re aware that we’re not having rice for breakfast today.” 

The soft and lilting voice from behind and left of Nishinoya tugs his attention away from the chicken sizzling on the skillet. A glance over his shoulder reveals Suga, padding into the kitchen with the silence of a cat. He must’ve come back from his morning jog as he’s still dressed in his windbreaker and jogging pants and his hair has a slight windblown appearance. Two empty water bottles are held in his hands as he passes by Nishinoya to the sink. 

“Good morning to you too.” Nishinoya turns his attention back to the chicken. “I know that. About us not having rice for breakfast, I mean.”   

The sound of the water running from the tap joins the background noise of the old-timey ballad playing on Mrs Tanaka’s beat-up radio perched on an overhead shelf. For a moment, Suga doesn’t say anything as he methodically washes his and Kiyoko’s water bottles before putting them up on the drying rack. “Judging from the lunchboxes on the counter, I’m assuming you’ll be out today?” he asks, stepping away from the sink to dry his hands.

Nishinoya switches off the stove and reaches for a plate nearby. He transfers the chicken there before putting the skillet in the sink. It sizzles in protest as it comes in contact with water, steam rising from it and pressing condensation over the surface of the tap. “Probably the whole day,” says Nishinoya. He glances sideways to see Suga smiling suspiciously at him. “What?” he asks, suddenly defensive. 

“Is it a date?” 

Nishinoya snorts although some part of him is alarmed that Suga thought that at all. “It’s not. I’m just hanging out with Asahi-san.” 

“For the whole day?” 

“Well, you don’t hear me complaining when you disappear with Daichi for a long time.” 

“Okay, point taken.” Suga’s eyes twinkle with amusement. “What do you plan to do the whole day?” he asks, this time no longer teasing but genuinely interested. 

Nishinoya tells him about what he has planned today while preparing the rest of the dishes for lunch. If he must be honest, it’s something he hasn’t gotten a chance to do since he lived in Sendai so it’d be a win-win situation for both he and Asahi. When the idea came to him last night, he spent about an hour or so looking everything up so he won’t be entirely clueless the next day. “And, that’s pretty much it,” he says, finishing the last dish, tamagoyaki. He slices them into neat little sections, arranges them carefully into the lunchboxes then closes the lunchboxes up.

A low chuckle from Suga raises Nishinoya’s head up. He frowns slightly. “What?”

Suga straightens up from leaning his hip against the counter. “Remember when Asahi first came here?” he asks, “And you were being a little mean to him?” 

Color floods Nishinoya’s cheeks as his gaze falls away from Suga’s. “Yeah, I remember.” He regards Suga thoughtfully. “You wanted me to be nice to him.” His insides twist as if guilty though he hasn’t done anything wrong. 

Suga’s smile is gentle. “Well, you _are_ nice to him.” He tucks back a strand of silver hair that fell over his face. “Just, nicer than I thought you’d be. And that’s good,” he adds when Nishinoya’s eyebrows arch towards his hairline. He laughs. “We Shadowhunters have to be good to each other, don’t we?” 

Nishinoya thinks about Ryu making fun of Daichi behind his back. “I suppose.” 

“Well, I have to go shower now,” says Suga and from his tone, it’s clear the conversation is over for now. “I’ll see you at breakfast.”

“Please don’t spoil the surprise for Asahi,” Nishinoya calls just before Suga disappears out of view. 

* * *

Asahi gets nervous about a lot of things but the type of jitteriness he experiences the next morning is on a different tier entirely. He wakes up later than usual with the half-formed thought that he should probably pick something nice (but comfortable, and totally his style) to wear. Also, he should comb his hair before putting it in his usual bun, or maybe skip the bun and try a ponytail instead before he stops himself, in the middle of the bathroom from doing all the weird ideas popping in his head. _For the Angel’s sake, it’s_ just _a hangout with Nishinoya_ , he tells himself as he shakes his head, _not a date_.

 _A date_ , a voice that sounded too much like Daichi’s echoes in his head. The worst part about it was that it sounded amused, teasing even. No, Asahi isn’t going to give it the satisfaction of making fun of him. 

So he splashes cold water on his face, dries it off and shuffles out of the bathroom. Pale sunlight spills into his room as he draws the curtains back. The grayish morning sky greets him. 

He wonders where Nishinoya will take him today. 

Probably an arcade, but Asahi dismisses that thought. Nishinoya won’t think of going to the same place twice. Maybe they’d go to some recreational area or something where they can have fun. Asahi frowns. In that moment, he’s grateful that he’s not the one who needs to figure out a place to go to. If their roles were swapped, Asahi’s certain Nishinoya would be crying from boredom already. 

The mattress sinks under his weight as his hand reaches under his pillow for his phone. He reads and replies a few texts from Megumi before he hears something. 

The soft footsteps outside in the corridor that he now recognizes as Nishinoya’s. He must be awake now. Somehow, the sound reminds him of when Nishinoya first told him that there was a training session at dawn. He remembers how Nishinoya looked then: amber eyes blazing, his delicate nose scrunched up and his voice pitched louder than usual. 

Asahi is out of bed in a heartbeat. He pulls open the fusuma, heart pounding as his lips shape a greeting. But Nishinoya isn't in the corridor anymore and his heart sinks. 

He goes down to breakfast, and isn’t surprised to see everyone is already at their respective places at the table. With a pair of glasses perched on his nose, Mr Tanaka consults some official-looking documents while his wife reads the newspaper. They’re the only ones who aren’t eating; everyone else either has a bowl of cereal or toast in front of them.

When Asahi greets good morning to everyone, Nishinoya’s eyes flicker up to his. Asahi’s cheeks warm as he offers a brief smile before hurrying to his spot at the table. Nobody talks at breakfast, not really, so when Mr Tanaka speaks up, everyone stops whatever they’re doing at the moment. Apparently, there’s a Conclave meeting later in the day and he gives them the I-expect-everyone-to-be-on-their-best-behavior speech. Asahi thinks he saw Mr Tanaka glance at his son at the end of it. 

“Asahi and I are going to be out the whole day,” says Nishinoya a few moments after Mr Tanaka. “We might be back after dinner,” he adds and everyone stares at either him or Asahi. Mrs Tanaka launches into questions like whether they’ve got enough money for food (“Please don’t worry about that! I’ve got enough.”) and why they need a whole day for the excursion (“I’ll tell you later. It’s a _secret_.” A glance at Asahi.) 

After that, everyone is dismissed.

Asahi is halfway to the stairs when he hears Nishinoya calling him. He turns just in time for the younger Shadowhunter to skid to a stop next to him. “We’ll be going at 8.30. Don’t be late, okay?” Nishinoya pats his arm then squeezes past him to dash up the stairs; Ryu follows but stops at the first step to narrow his eyes at Asahi before pounding up the stairs. 

Perhaps Ryu intends to murder him later for ‘stealing’ his parabatai. 

Asahi shakes off the thought before going up to his room. When he shuts the fusuma behind him, the weird ideas he had this morning return at full force. “ **It’s just Nishinoya** ,” he reminds himself through gritted teeth as he banishes the fear that he’ll dress inadequately for the occasion. 

He spends longer than usual to get ready. In the shower, he takes care to shampoo his hair thoroughly and uses his favorite body foam (which he bought a huge bottle of before leaving Australia). As an afterthought, he lets his damp hair to air-dry. After getting dressed, he packs a few things in a backpack: money, his phone, a small foldable umbrella, his stele and witchlight, and at least two seraph blades. Shadowhunter essentials. 

Nishinoya is waiting for him downstairs in the room for receiving guests. The room is decorated in Western style, with rugs and tall see-through cabinets displaying porcelain wares. Sprawled across the divan is Nishinoya, tossing a small object in his hand up and down. He stops when Asahi pauses at the doorway. 

“Hey,” Nishinoya says cheerfully as he sits up. Without waiting for a reply, he swings his backpack propped beside the divan onto his shoulders and bounds towards the door. Asahi hastily steps aside to make room as Nishinoya finds himself in the corridor, heading towards the genkan. “Shall we go?” He plops down to put on his shoes, but not before he checks over his shoulder for Asahi. 

Asahi nods and joins him. The genkan isn’t the widest space possible but he tries to put a respectable amount of distance between himself and Nishinoya. He puts on his sneakers, careful not to put his elbows out too much as he ties his laces. And then something brushes against his arm. _Nishinoya_. He nearly jumps at the contact, eyes sweeping sideways. 

“What’s wrong?” Nishinoya is already standing. 

“Nothing.” 

Fortunately, Nishinoya doesn't ask anymore, instead he calls out, “We’re heading out now!” Somewhere inside the house, someone replies but before Asahi can hear what it is, Nishinoya leads him outside. 

As they’ve left earlier than planned, the two of them amble towards the train station. The clouds in the sky are starting to clear up, showing hints of blue in between them. Hopefully it doesn’t rain today, Asahi thinks. 

Nishinoya walks a little ahead of him. He’s a picture of ease, whistling an off-key tune as he bounces slightly with each step. His hands are tucked into the pockets of his oversized jacket, the hood of the sweatshirt he wears under it drawn over his head. He’s skipped the jeans today in favor of black basketball shorts and tight leggings. The fabric of the leggings shimmer dully with barely-visible runes woven into it.

 _Man, he looks so cool_ , Asahi thinks. _How does he look so cool?_  

“Asahi-san, you’re so slow!” Nishinoya’s voice cuts into Asahi’s thoughts; he quickly jerks his gaze away, forcing it up to meet Nishinoya’s. His pulse jumps when Nishinoya slows down for him to catch up. 

“Sorry.” Asahi’s face is hot with embarrassment. A playful tug on his jacket sleeve lets him know that Nishinoya was simply teasing when he called out earlier. 

“Today will be fun,” promises Nishinoya. He has to crane his head sideways and up to look at Asahi directly when they walk side-by-side. Asahi nearly forgot how short he was, how the half of Nishinoya’s head barely shoots over his shoulder. 

“Is that so?” 

“You’ll see!” is all Nishinoya says cheerily before they reach the train station. 

* * * 

Nishinoya does like to be able to keep the suspense going but is a little disappointed when Asahi doesn’t pester him for details. He’s tried dropping hints like pointing at Sendai station when they were referring to the subway map and casually mentioning that they’d be in the city the whole day but no luck. Asahi just nods and smiles and doesn’t ask any questions. His reluctance to participate—or it’s probably Asahi’s Asahi-ness—reminds Nishinoya that he isn’t like any of his friends, who are like him in personality. 

It doesn't irk him as much as it used to, the differences in their personality. If anything, Nishinoya thinks they could be opposites. Where Nishinoya is excitable and loud, Asahi is placid and soft-spoken. Nishinoya is boisterous and energetic, Asahi is quiet and gentle. Perhaps it was why he didn’t like Asahi at first and Asahi was scared of him. Perhaps it’s exactly why, now, he’d like to get to know Asahi better, to understand his little quirks and habits.

Now, Nishinoya watches as Asahi fiddles with a small puzzle cube. It’s attached to a keychain on one of the zips of his backpack, which sits on his lap. There are nine little squares on each face of the cube, each in different colors. Asahi’s fingers are broad and round-ended, almost clumsy-looking, but he twists each row and side of the cube with surprising deftness and speed. 

Although it’s kind of fun to watch him fiddle with it, Nishinoya’s attention starts drifting away. His eyes follow up the line of Asahi’s arms, along the swell of his bicep against his jacket sleeve, up the gentle curls of hair tucked behind his ear before coming to rest at his face. 

Nishinoya doesn’t mean to stare longer than a second but somehow he loses himself in the detail of Asahi’s features. In the sweep of his jawline. In the way his eyelashes flutter when he lowers his eyes. In the slight parting of his lips. In that cute little mole on his chin. 

If Nishinoya’s hands were meant to create, he’d draw Asahi right here in this moment in a heartbeat.

He wrenches his gaze back to Asahi’s hands in time to see the puzzle cube solved. “How do you do that?” he asks. 

Asahi shrugs, the little shy smile curling his lips upwards at the corners. He detaches the keychain from the zip. His fingertips brush, feather-light, on Nishinoya’s palm as he gives him the cube. 

“What is it called?” The English phrasebook Nishinoya was reading lays forgotten on his lap as he touches the cube. 

“ **Rubik’s cube**.” 

“ **Rubik’s cube**.” Nishinoya tries to imitate Asahi’s pronunciation but it sounds different to his ears. Nevertheless, Asahi nods like he said it right. He makes an encouraging gesture so Nishinoya gives the middle row a backwards twist. The side facing him was red but now there’s a whole row of yellow through the middle. Nishinoya stares at it in consideration before twisting it the other way. “Yay, I solved it,” he says brightly, showing that all sides are their respective colors, and Asahi snorts. 

They alight at Sendai, taking the escalator to the upper floor exits which lead to interconnected walkways that branch off to different parts of the surrounding area near the station. Many people come in different directions so Nishinoya keeps close to Asahi by holding onto his backpack; sure, Asahi is tall which would make him easy to spot in a crowd but Nishinoya isn’t risking losing him. 

“Today, we’ll do something special,” Nishinoya begins when they’ve walked out of the exit to one of the walkways. With the Sendai Station behind them, the city is spread out before them. 

Asahi’s eyes round at the word ‘special’. 

“Today, we are not Shadowhunters because—” Nishinoya breaks off. “Ah, I forgot! Did you put on any glamor runes?” 

“O-oh, no, I didn’t.” 

Nishinoya nods in approval. “We don’t need it today.” He gestures expansively at the city behind him, nearly hitting a passer-by in the face. “We’re going sightseeing!” Asahi stares at him then blinks twice; that isn’t the reaction Nishinoya had been expecting. He deflates a little before regaining his composure. 

Just as he opens his mouth to explain it in a simpler way, probably throw in some gestures to get across what he’s trying to say, Asahi says, “Ah, so we’re like tourists?” 

Nishinoya brightens. “Correct! Since you came here, you didn't have a chance to get to know Sendai better so I thought this was a good idea.” The moment he finishes his sentence, a sudden wave of bashfulness washes over him. Asahi probably wanted a regular hangout, like visiting an ice-cream parlor or shopping or whatever. Not a tour of the city which would take the whole day. Perhaps Nishinoya outdone himself. 

Asahi doesn't say anything, long enough for Nishinoya to start fretting, before he smiles graciously, and almost shyly. “That’s wonderful,” he says. “Thank you so much.” 

Heat tickles Nishinoya’s nape. “Ah, don’t mention it!” He waves his hand dismissively, suddenly flustered. “Anyway, let's get going!” He leads Asahi down a set of stairs which takes them to the lower terminal for buses. Fortunately, they don’t have to wait long as the bus they’re taking, the Loople, is already there, idling by the curb. After tapping their transport cards on—Asahi is surprised they work—they squeeze into the seats near the back of the bus. From the outside, the bus reminds Asahi of one of those old trams that sometimes run around in Melbourne’s city center. Inside, the seats are worn but comfortable. 

Nishinoya gives him a map of the bus’s route, with their destinations carefully circled in red ink. It rests on his and Nishinoya’s lap while Nishinoya explains that they’ll be using the bus to travel between the places. Asahi tries not to think about the light brushes across his lap as Nishinoya points at the circles. 

“Any questions?” Nishinoya looks up at him. Asahi has never been this close, close enough, to make out the individual flecks of gold in Nishinoya’s amber eyes, to notice that Nishinoya’s pupils are somewhat catlike. Whatever the details, Asahi’s certain it’s the prettiest and most intriguing thing he’s ever seen.

A little warning bell goes off in his head. He pulls his gaze away from Nishinoya’s, cheeks heating, but manages a shake of his head. “I’m alright,” he says but his voice is somewhat uneven. 

* * * 

Their morning passes by fairly quickly, almost like a blur. Asahi figures, from the destinations on the map, that the destinations they’re visiting offer information about the history of how Sendai came to be. 

Their first stop was the Zuihoden mausoleum where the feudal lord, Date Masumane, and his descendants are entombed. Despite the hour, it was filling with tourists and a few locals. Nishinoya got them discounted tickets to enter, by some stroke of luck since they weren’t eligible for discounts—or maybe there was a special Shadowhunter discount. Either way, they spent nearly an hour wandering the grounds, peering up at the giant cedar trees that flank the paths and admiring the elaborate woodwork of the vividly colored tombs. They managed to slip in among a group of tourists, whose guide was explaining about the history of the Date clan in English. After stopping by at the museum beside the mausoleum, they ambled along the Hirosegawa river while waiting for the bus. 

Then they went to the Sendai City museum where Asahi lost himself in the exhibition rooms learning about the history of Sendai and the collections of historical artifacts for about an hour. Nishinoya had been so quiet the whole time, Asahi almost forgot about him until they reached the exit of the last exhibition room. There, it was almost like Nishinoya reappeared though his expression seemed like he’d been at Asahi’s side the whole time. He didn’t look like he minded that Asahi took his sweet time too. 

“Are you hungry yet?” asks Nishinoya when they emerge from the museum. “It’s nearly lunchtime.” Asahi would’ve said that he’s alright, thank you very much, if his stomach didn’t growl right after Nishinoya’s explanation. An inelegant noise slips out from him but Nishinoya laughs. 

“Let’s find a place to sit then.” 

Unfortunately, there isn't an area near the museum for them to eat so they had no choice but to sit on the grass. To avoid any mundanes bothering them, they apply glamor runes. From his bag, Nishinoya produces two lunchboxes and a Thermos flask. He gives Asahi one of the lunchboxes and a set of chopsticks then helps himself. 

Whoever made this lunch has taken great care into preparing it. The teriyaki chicken is tender and has the right amount of seasoning. The sweet-sour taste of the cucumber salad is balanced. Even the tamagoyaki is made just the way he likes it, firm with a distinct eggy taste. Asahi practically inhales his meal. 

“That was delicious,” he sighs, setting down his lunchbox. “Who made it?” 

Nishinoya stuffs the rest of his salad in his mouth and closes his lunchbox. He steals a moment to chew and pour some tea from the flask for Asahi while maintaining a knowing look in his eyes. “Hm, I wonder who?” he says with playful thoughtfulness.

Asahi’s eyes narrow but the corners of his mouth curl upwards. He decides to play along. “Saeko-san?” 

“Nope.” 

“Kiyoko?” 

“Not even close!” 

“Tanaka-san?” 

Nishinoya snorts. “You mean Ryu’s parents? Or Ryu?” 

“Either.” 

Nishinoya clutches his chest. “Will we ever know?” 

Asahi laughs. He’s drawn it out long enough so he says, “Nishinoya? Did you make it?” Nishinoya’s eyes light up and a huge grin breaks across his features. Warmth blossoms in Asahi’s chest at the sight, spreading outwards until his body is thrumming with it. And the next words tumble out of his mouth, careless. “You did such a good job. It was really delicious.” 

Nishinoya’s smile melts away; Asahi’s stomach lurches. Did he ruin it? But no, Nishinoya is looking away and … his cheeks are red. Asahi’s worry evaporates as quickly as it came. In its place, curiosity materializes. He’s never seen Nishinoya this shy. 

“O-of course it’s delicious.” Is Nishinoya’s voice a tad higher than usual? After a heartbeat, he shakes his head, squares his shoulders and raises his head. His eyes blaze with such boldness and his chin is tilted up with a certain stubbornness. Asahi’s thrown back into a fleeting memory of choppy waves, relieved cries erupting around him and fluffy towels thrown over a shivering figure. And then it fades back to Nishinoya in the present. 

“Anyway, have you finished your tea?” Nishinoya cuts into Asahi’s thoughts. “I need the cup.” 

“Ah, sorry!” 

* * * 

The rest of the day passes just as quickly as the morning had. They visited the ruins of the Aoba castle (Asahi had been confused because he didn’t see any tall structures looming over the location where it was supposedly situated until Nishinoya told him they were actually visiting its ruins); saw the statue of Date Masamune, the founder of Sendai (his samurai helmet was something to behold); whiled away an hour and a half at the top of the hill where the castle ruins were located to enjoy the view of the grey city sprawled ahead of them. 

Then they headed to their last destination for the day, which was another shrine called Osaki Hachimangu shrine. The grand vermillion gates greeted them, a broad stone path led them up to the main building, whose roof was decorated in black lacquer, shimmering gold leaf and vivid colors. There, Asahi decided to buy some souvenirs for the rest back at the Institute. 

He finds Nishinoya under a cedar tree, chatting to a few of the Fair Folk. Asahi stops at a respectable distance from them. The Fair Folk look friendly enough, if one can look past their vulpine features, sharpened claws and cloven feet. One of them is speaking to Nishinoya but Nishinoya’s eyes slide past theirs to Asahi’s. And then the mask of cool nonchalance slides away to delight. 

Asahi’s heart does a somersault. 

Nishinoya excuses himself from them and jogs towards Asahi, not bothering to look back at the faeries’ confused faces. “Sorry if you waited long.” He doesn’t mention his Fair Folk friends, instead asks if there’s any place Asahi still wants to see. 

“Ah, not really,” admits Asahi. His feet are sore from walking all day and his shoulders ache from his backpack straps. But one look at Nishinoya’s face then he changes his mind. “What about you?” 

Nishinoya’s eyes widen like he hadn’t expected the question to be redirected at him. “Oh, but are you tired already? We can go home, if you want.” 

When offered a choice between staying out and going home, Asahi always chooses the latter without doubt. Yet, this time Asahi finds himself shaking his head automatically. Even though today was tiring, it was fun. It was fun hanging out with Nishinoya and seeing all these places in the city, even though most of the hours they spent was in silence to admire the scenery around them. He doesn't want this day to end so soon. If anything, he wants to steal some more time for the pleasure of sightseeing, like a mundane. 

He doesn't admit that to Nishinoya (even if he wanted to, he didn’t know how to express it) but Nishinoya understands. All he does is take one look at Asahi and says, “Yeah, I don’t want to go home either.” 

* * * 

Whether Nishinoya knows it or not, Asahi loves learning about the history of places he visits. He remembers dragging Daichi and Megumi around whenever they had free time to learn more about the city they lived in. Back then, when he wasn’t a full-fledged Shadowhunter, he didn’t have much opportunity to travel out of the city, much less expore the state of Victoria where Melbourne was located. 

If anyone asked him, Asahi would say this is probably one of the best things he got to do since coming to the city. 

After leaving Osaki Hachimangu, they stopped by at Kokubuncho, the entertainment district. They went to a couple of arcades and this time Asahi played with Nishinoya, from the racing games to the shooting games and even the crane games—they didn’t win for the last one but they enjoyed themselves, regardless. 

When they emerge from one of the arcades, the sky is already darkening. 

“Oh!” Nishinoya exclaims when he looks up at the twilight blue sky.

“What’s wrong?” 

Nishinoya doesn't answer, instead he turns to Asahi with such urgency that Asahi becomes anxious. “Come with me!” His hand encloses around Asahi’s wrist and then he pulls Asahi along through the streets, which are crowding with people. He weaves through the bodies but Asahi bumps into them when Nishinoya ducks into a building. By then, Asahi’s too tired from keeping up with Nishinoya and from apologizing to the people he crahes into at every breath (he is _that_ clumsy). He just lets Nishinoya drag him along, like a child holding on to a balloon, as they climb up flights of emergency exit stairs. 

Asahi has never been more out of breath when they reach the top floor, at the entrance to the rooftop. He doesn’t bother asking if they’re even allowed up here. 

Nishinoya shoves the door. When it doesn't budge, he whips out his stele to carve an _Open_ rune. The door swings open, letting in a blast of cold air. 

The building probably belongs to some business company as the rooftop appears to be a sort of recreational area for the office workers to relax. Tables and chairs are set up, with large umbrellas hanging over them. Green bushes adorn the perimeter of the rooftop. A pond bubbles somewhere to Asahi’s left. Lamps are interspersed at different spots to provide illumination in the otherwise dark rooftop. 

With a quick beckoning gesture, Nishinoya hops up to one of the tables and drops his bag on the floor. Asahi does the same and occupies a chair. 

He’s about to ask Nishinoya what they’re doing here, and why they had to run all the way here, when he notices Nishinoya is staring at some fixed point in the horizon. He follows his gaze. 

Asahi’s breath catches. 

Though the building isn’t as tall as its neighbors, its rooftop is able to offer a view of the area’s skyline. The city twinkles with polychromatic lights, putting a stark contrast against the dark sky. Up here, all the noise of the city—cars zooming by, too many people talking, loud music playing—sound as distant as a dream. 

Asahi watches it all, entranced by everything. With all the demon-slaying and training, he doesn't have a lot of opportunities to sit and watch the world like this. To appreciate the place he’s charged to protect. To enjoy in what it has to offer. 

He wishes he can stay here forever in this moment. 

A soft creak nudges him out of his thoughts. He almost gives a start when he is aware of an amber-eyed gaze directed at him. 

“So, what do you think?” 

“Wonderful.” It’s the only word Asahi can think of, inadequate yet enough, to express his thoughts. 

Nishinoya smiles and settles back in his chair. His face appears to glow in the soft light casted by a nearby lamp. The brief silence is broken when he tells Asahi about how he found this place. Asahi listens but a few sentences in he gets distracted—specifically by how Nishinoya’s voice sounds. By how his tone rises and falls with an almost musical quality. By how his hands gesture as he speaks. And how his eyes seem brighter than all the lights around them.

Asahi doesn’t ever want to forget this. 

“And that’s how I found this place,” Nishinoya finishes, hands falling to rest on his lap. Asahi has been silent the whole time, he realizes, that now he fears he fell asleep. So Nishinoya turns to look. 

He catches the glimpse of a faint smile, a soft gaze—a look that makes something stir in his chest—and Asahi is looking away, lips folded tightly against each other. He’s been doing that a lot today, Nishinoya’s noticed (more than he’d like to). Some part of him wishes Asahi wouldn’t look away when their gazes tangle, as if he’d done something wrong. 

He wants to look at Asahi, properly look into his eyes and all, but Asahi never meets his gaze. It’s always fixed at some point on his face. Maybe he’d been hoping for too much today, and the days before when his cold hostility towards Asahi had thawed into hopefulness for friendship. 

A piercing noise interrupts the silence, causing both of them to jump in surprise. It turns out to be coming from Asahi’s jacket pocket. Asahi fishes his phone up. Though the screen is angled, Nishinoya sees megumi flashing on it. 

The wistful feeling that’s been clouding him in a haze condenses into a small bitter knot. Nishinoya’s body tenses with anticipation, waiting for the moment Asahi forgets all about him. 

It doesn't come. 

Asahi pushes the silent button and places his phone back into his pocket. He looks at Nishinoya as if nothing had interrupted them. 

“I’ve never been to Idris,” Nishinoya blurts. 

Asahi blinks. “Idris?” he repeats. 

“I’ve always wanted to go there. But Ukai-sensei tells me I don’t fit the criteria to enter the Shadowhunter Academy, even with all the training. And I can’t go by myself either because I haven’t completed my Shadowhunting education and I’m not eighteen yet. I mean, I could tag along when the Tanakas go but I’m not family. Not really.” 

Asahi doesn’t say anything. 

 _Stupid_ , Nishinoya thinks. _You sound like a little kid whining about how unfair the world is_. He almost slouches in his seat but stops when he feels his back curving. No, he won’t act vulnerable. If anything, he’ll keep his chin up.  
  
“I haven’t been to Idris too.” 

Nishinoya relaxes immediately. “Well, that’s good, I guess. One thing we have in common.” 

“ **Maybe we should go there one day. As tourists, sort of.** ” 

Nishinoya almost agrees to it, had he not sensed something was amiss. His head whips to the side in time to see Asahi drawing back a hand that’s holding a stele. The  _Speak in Tongues_ rune is etched onto the underside of his left forearm. 

Despite himself, Nishinoya laughs. “Asahi-san, that's _cheating_!” 

Sheepishly, Asahi shrugs. “ **I couldn’t help myself**.” 

“Mm, you’d better not make it a habit to use that rune all the time,” chides Nishinoya. “You’re here in Japan to learn Japanese.”

“ **No, I’m here for my discovery year and to slay demons**.” 

Nishinoya makes an unimpressed noise and slaps Asahi’s arm.

“ **Ow, okay! I’m also here to learn Japanese**!” 

“Correct!” says Nishinoya haughtily. “You’d better not forget that, Asahi-san.” 

Asahi wears a self-deprecating smile. “ **I won’t.** ” 

An idea occurs to Nishinoya. He jumps out of his seat, startling Asahi by his suddenness, and beckons Asahi to follow him. When Asahi doesn’t budge, he rolls his eyes and starts pulling Asahi out of the chair. Asahi resists, playfully, before letting himself be dragged along. Nishinoya leads him to the edge of the rooftop, where the only thing stopping them from stepping into air is the bushes and the safety handrail. 

“We’ll play a game. A vocabulary game,” says Nishinoya as he turns to Asahi. “I promise I won’t make it too difficult. I’ll describe something and you have to guess what it is.” 

Asahi narrows his eyes at him. “ **I have to say it in Japanese, right?** ” 

“No, you say it in French,” answers Nishinoya. 

Asahi doesn’t say anything for long enough that Nishinoya almost worries if he’s gone too far before Asahi says, “ **Unfortunately for you, I don’t speak French**.” 

“Too bad.” Nishinoya’s hands close around the cold metal railing and he leans forward. The wind ruffles his hair, causing strands to whip over his forehead. “The rules are that you can’t use this,” he says, tapping on the underside of Asahi’s forearm where the _Speak in Tongues_ rune is located. “And if you do badly,” he adds, meeting Asahi’s eyes, “you’ll have to buy me GariGariKun popsicles.” 

Asahi snorts but obliges anyway. He marks away the rune, cancelling it out so it fades to white. He’s just about to put his stele away when Nishinoya reaches for his hand. Everything seems to slow then, as Nishinoya’s hand encloses around his bare wrist. 

Nishinoya is saying something to him but Asahi can barely hear it over the sudden roar of his pulse in his ears. He watches as Nishinoya plucks the stele from his free hand and holds the wrist of the other. 

The tip of the stele touches his skin. Asahi braces himself for the sting that comes with Marking but for the strangest reason, he doesn’t feel it. Instead, all he feels is a pleasantly warm sensation as the stele dances across his skin. It leaves a trail of bold and black lines that form the matrix of the Farsighted rune. 

“There you go!” Nishinoya’s voice comes back to focus with sharp clarity. He pats Asahi’s arms as if to reassure him before attending to himself. 

Asahi cradles his hand, thumb brushing over the rune. He can still feel the ghost of Nishinoya’s touch on his wrist. 

They start the game shortly after, with Nishinoya spotting things and describing them to Asahi, who has to guess what they are and point it out. Sometimes he describes a person and Asahi has to point out which one. Asahi would’ve done well, in his opinion, if he hadn’t been so distracted by the way he felt when Nishinoya drew the rune for him. 

The game doesn’t last very long as Nishinoya runs out of things to describe. By then, they agree to head back. On the way down the stairs, Asahi remembers the rules Nishinoya made. 

“So, did I do well today?” he ventures. 

The corners of Nishinoya’s mouth curve into a smile as he craned his head to look at Asahi. “You did, but I still want those GariGariKun popsicles,” he replies with a laugh as they leave the building’s premises.

“How many do you want?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shadowhunter terms  
>  **idris** the shadowhunter home country which is hidden from mundanes and was given by Angel Raziel. it is located in central europe and only shadowhunters can access it.
> 
> just a disclaimer that i have never been to japan, much less sendai so all the descriptions of the places asanoya have visited are based on me consulting various tourist websites (namely [the official site for the loople sendai bus service](http://loople-sendai.jp/en/about/) and [japan-guide.com](https://www.japan-guide.com/e/e5150.html)) and watching [this](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=cHjKckxsOCs) vlog so i apologize if i have gotten any details wrong. please do not hesitate to correct me if you see any discrepancies.


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